12a Transmutation of Time Pt 1 The Will of Ormril
by Margaret Price
Summary: When the TARDIS is drawn off course, the Doctor and Peri find themselves embroiled in a power struggle that has more dimensions imaginable. 5th Doctor
1. The Entity

_The Transmutation Of Time_ is a multipart story that crosses time lines, overlaps Doctors and moves backward and forward along several individuals' personal time lines. It also sees the introduction of several original characters who will continue throughout most of this 4-part story. Strap in.

Part One is a 5th Doctor story that takes place after "Planet of Fire." It is a continuation of the story arc begun in the 2-Part story, "Who Is My Enemy."

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PART ONE

**THE WILL OF ORMRIL**

**Chapter One**

**The Entity**

The colors of the room swirled and moved as though with a life of their own, yet their beauty was lost on the young man who was trapped within a glowing ball of energy. He sat dejectedly staring into space and tried to calculate just how long he had been imprisoned. _Days? Weeks? It seemed like years_, he thought despondently. Shaking his head to clear it, he tried to concentrate his muddled brain in yet another futile attempt to remember his last clear thoughts before finding himself im­pris­oned.

He had arrived on the planet Lumenarus IV to do his graduate thesis. That much he remem­bered quite clearly. The people had been friendly enough at first, but that did not last long. Things had started to change. He remembered the headaches started at the same time, then… then… With a sigh, the trapped youth could recall no more.

The prisoner looked out at the room in which he was sus­pended, breathing a sigh of re­lief when he saw he was still alone. Frowning, he tried to recall the last time this had happened for such a long period of time, but was unable to retrieve anything in his tangled thoughts. Sighing heavily, he decided he might as well scrutinize his surroundings, which were just as bizarre as his prison. There was no door, window, or sliding panels that he could see. In fact, as far as he could tell there was no visible entrance at all. A cloud of smoke suddenly appeared out of no­where and he stiffened visibly. His captor had returned all too soon, and that meant another round of inter­rogation. Not that he would have minded were each session not accompanied with what seemed to be an obligatory application of torture.

"My Master is displeased with the progress of those under your dominion, human," the entity within the cloud announced in a deep, toneless voice.

"Well, what am _I_ supposed to do about it?" came the caustic reply. "You've already got peo­ple rioting in the streets, destroying property, killing each other. You've even got them sabotag­ing their own equipment for you."

"The overseers of this planet have grown suspicious that the investigation into these events has produced no results."

"I'm not surprised. Especially with your Master running the whole show," the prisoner snapped, his anger helping to clear his thoughts.

The sarcasm was lost on the entity, it only understanding the hostility behind it. "My power is limited by the spatial rift. That is why your assistance is required, human."

"Well, it might help if you stopped calling me human. I have a name, you know."

"All of your designations across the rift have passed on to my Master. You no longer—"

"No! He may've taken my place but that doesn't change anything. I'm still the _real_ Juris!"

The entity ignored the outburst and moved slightly away. The colors in the wall a few feet from the imprisoned youth suddenly swirled violently and then divided as a large view screen formed within its semisolid surface. Juris looked at it in a combination of longing and dread as he got to his feet, his eyes growing wide when the face of a kindly looking old man with snow-white hair and a short cropped beard appeared on the screen.

"This man is being sent to take over the investigation," the entity was saying. "He is the ruler of a planet outside of this system and is reputed to have produced unexpected results, al­though it is rumored his staff—" The being in the cloud broke off. While the face of its prisoner was, at times, obscured by the energy field, his emotions came through clearly. "You know this man. You will tell me of him."

The sphere started to glow brightly and its trapped occupant cried out in desperation, "No, stop! You don't have to do this!" Juris' pleas went unheeded as the inquisition began once again. He writhed helplessly within the force field, the intensity increasing to the point where he was completely paralyzed. "Stop, please!" he screamed in torment. "I'll…tell you! Just…stop the pain!" To his relief, the glow faded, ending his agony. He sagged against the force field, dazed and badly shaken. "Wh…why…must you…_do_ that?" he demanded weakly.

"It is the way of my Master," came the unrepentant reply. "I know of no other."

"Your Master's a barbarian!" the young man spat hatefully, only to shrink back as the en­tity moved closer. "Why don't you just _ask_ me?" Juris said reasonably. "I'm perfectly willing to an­swer you as long as you don't torture me every time. You said you could feel my emotions. Surely you'll know if I'm lying or not." Receiving no reply, he asked coldly, "Or do you just en­joy being sadistic?"

"It is not my function to enjoy. Only to gather and direct."

Juris was none the wiser and chanced another direct inquiry. "How?"

To his surprise his captor obliged him with a reply. "My function is to redirect the men­tal ener­gies generated by living beings. I am not a living being. Therefore, I am not capable of gen­erating or feeling emotions."

"You mean…you're a machine?"

"I am an extension of the will of my Master, Ormril, created of pure energy."

"Does that mean you have to hurt me whether I agree to answer you or not?" the young man asked reasonably.

The entity's voice changed dramatically, taking on a lighter almost effeminate tone that com­pletely threw its prisoner. "My Master desires only that I gather certain information from you. He did not specify as to the means by which I am to extract it. If you cooperate will­ingly, then I will try your way. The pain clouds your mind and makes it difficult to read. It also weak­ens your conscious mental energies."

The cloud of smoke billowed across the room as its captive struggled without success to com­pletely understand. Looking down at himself, Juris said, "I don't understand. Are you saying I'm here only as mental energy?"

"Yes."

"Then why can I see myself?"

"You have no substance here, human. Your appearance is a manifestation of your own con­sciousness."

"Great. I have no body, but I'm still trapped," the youth muttered darkly. The cloud moved even further away and he relaxed slightly. As far as he could tell the creature could only hurt him at close range, so the further away the better.

"You are quite different from those I have encountered in the past," the entity was saying. "Most were consumed with greed and the lust for power. And those who sought to destroy my Master were driven by fear. These emotions I understand. But yours are completely different. Complex. I must study them further. I find them interesting."

"Interesting! I'm not a bug in a jar! I'm a person! A living, breathing, sentient being! I have a name, friends, family. I have a life!"

The indignation felt by the imprisoned youth intrigued the entity all the more and it moved closer to study him. Juris, in turn, shrank back, certain his prison would become a torture cham­ber at any moment.

"Fear," the entity observed blandly. "Interesting. Why do you feel fear?"

"Why!" Juris was incredulous. "What do you mean, why? Every time you come near me, you hurt me. Who wouldn't be afraid?" He watched as the cloud changed shape, growing larger and smaller, something he would later come to recognize as a sign it was thinking. He jumped when the entity suddenly seemed to remember the original reason for its visit and abruptly changed its voice, which was once again deep and threatening. "This man. You know him?"

"Oh, yes," came the quiet reply. "He's—" Juris broke off as the ball started to glow again and looked around in horror. "What're you doing! I said I'd answer you! You don't have to—"

"If you wish to give me what is in your mind," his captor interrupted, "then you must not fight me. Your mental energies have recreated your physical self within the sphere. That is why you feel pain."

This explanation only increased Juris' mounting confusion. Struggling to comprehend, he said, "You're saying I'm doing it to myself? How?"

"My Master created me to turn strong emotions, such as fear, into a weapon. If you do not fear, then there is nothing to use as a weapon. Do you understand?"

"I…I think so. How do I…give you what's in my mind?"

The entity moved even closer. "You must willingly open your mind to me."

Closing his eyes, the imprisoned youth drew a deep breath and swallowed hard, trying hard to do as instructed. After a moment he felt the alien presence in his mind and tried to relax. Un­fortunately, the creature was less than gentle. "No, slow down! Not so fast!" he cried out in pain. "I can't…think!" Within seconds Juris was completely overwhelmed, his thoughts once again being savagely torn from his mind. After what seemed an eternity, he was released and collapsed to his hands and knees. Looking up, he wondered dazedly if he were any better off than before.

"This is most unexpected," the entity observed, its voice light once again. "My Master must know of this immediately." The cloud abruptly vanished.

Juris only managed to get to a sitting position before the entity returned, announcing, "My Master is pleased."

"I'm overjoyed," came the embittered reply.

"Your words do not match your emotions. You are angry."

Juris sighed heavily. "It's called sarcasm. It's when you say one thing and mean the oppo­site." Seeing the view screen go blank, he assumed the interrogation was over and breathed a sigh of relief. To his surprise, the creature did not leave, remaining where it was across the room. "Is there…something else you wanted to ask me?" he asked hesitantly.

"Not at this time," came the succinct reply. "I would observe."

"You would, would you?" Juris muttered to himself before venturing, "Can I…ask you some­thing? Why do you need to keep me in this thing? You said when I got here this was an­other di­mension. I can't possibly escape, can I?"

"This is true. But your mental energies must remain protected until the time of their absorp­tion."

Juris did not like the sound of this. "Their…absorption?"

"When the time comes, I will absorb what you call your life force into myself."

"Absorb my…? Do you mean _kill me?_"

"If that is the term you prefer," came the bland reply. "Until my Master's escape from this dimension, he forbids this. It would destroy your physical form also, and that is required to draw the energies from the far side of the rift. Until my Master passes through the gateway, you are to remain in the energy sphere."

Juris shuddered. "When will that be? I mean, how long do I have?"

"I do not know. Time moves differently here than in your dimension. Here I have the power to alter its course."

"But…if you can do all that, what do you need me for? The physical me, that is."

"I do not have the power required to open the gateway. And while you possess only a rudimen­tary knowledge of the spatial mathematics involved, it pleases my Master to know that this king—"

"I don't think he has the skill to open your gateway, either," Juris interrupted sharply. "You'll need the man who taught him. He's the expert."

The cloud changed shape in reaction to this, apparently thinking once again. "And who is this expert?"


	2. Drawn Off Course

**Chapter Two**

**Drawn Off Course**

"What do you mean you don't know where we are? Don't you know how to steer this thing?" This forceful, if accusatory inquiry was made by Peri. The dark-haired American had just joined the Doctor as a trav­eling companion, and like so many of the others before her, she found the Time Lord's apparent inability to control his erratic time machine vexing, to put it mildly.

The Time Lord gave no reply, scowling over at the scanner screen and then back down at the control console. His expression did not change when he looked up at his companion. She re­turned the dark look with one of her own. The tall, slight, fair-haired man dressed in the unlikely costume of an Edwardian cricketer might claim to be over eight centuries old, but he still looked only a few years older than she did. Peri wondered if he was trying to be intimidat­ing. If so, he was failing miserably.

This lack of success was not an uncommon occurrence for the Doctor of late. He was in his fifth incarnation and his youthful appearance tended to make people less likely to take him seri­ously. While this had proven advantageous in some instances, it was downright irritating when it happened at the wrong time, something he hoped would be rectified as time went on rather than having to wait until his next regeneration.

"Well?" Peri asked pointedly.

The Doctor drew a deep breath. "I don't know where we are because the TARDIS seems to've been drawn off course. _Why_ I don't know." He pulled the door lever and turned, adding, "But I intend to find out." With that, he strode out the door.

_Not a bad exit_, Peri thought as she followed after him.

The time travelers emerged from the TARDIS to find themselves in what appeared to be a gigantic warehouse. The Doctor strode across the enormous room to a wall covered with an odd assortment of dials and switches. He gave it a cursory glance before he turned back to survey his surroundings, looking up at the catwalk under which he had just passed. It ran along the base of mammoth multi-paneled screen that he recognized instantly. "Ah, that explains it," he mut­tered, turning back to look at the dials. "The TARDIS must've locked on to its transmission fre­quency."

"What is this place, Doctor?" Peri asked. "It looks like a drive-in movie in space."

"Hardly. It's a solar generating satellite," the Time Lord informed matter of factly.

His companion looked none the wiser. "You mean like in solar power?" she asked.

"Quite the reverse, actually." Always ready to impart knowledge, the Doctor continued, "The generator screen up there recreates the full spectrum of sunlight and focuses it down onto the planet's surface below, both warming and lighting it like the sun."

"Why? What's wrong with good old-fashioned sunlight?"

The Doctor stopped his examination of the control dials and turned to face her. "Be­cause, my dear Peri, not all planets are as fortunate as yours to be near to their suns. If a planet is found to be conducive to human life, a ring of satellites—like this one—is constructed to simu­late day and night. And judging by the fact that this one is off, it must be night on this side of the planet."

"Wow!" Peri exclaimed, clearly impressed. "Isn't that taking artificial lighting a little too far?"

Before the Doctor could think of a suitably crushing reply a door not ten feet away from him suddenly opened and a large middle-aged man in orange coveralls entered. He stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of the two strangers. "How the devil did you get in here?" he asked in amazement.

"Well, it's all perfectly simple," the Time Lord began amiably. "You see, my young friend and I were—" He cut himself off when he noticed the name on the man's coveralls. "Your name is Bailey?"

The technician was surprised before realizing the Doctor was reading his nametag. "Yes, as you can plainly see."

"Bailey Ryan Anderson?" the Doctor then asked, receiving an astonished look. "My dear Bai­ley, don't you remember me? I'm the Doctor. We met sometime ago when—"

"Good Lord, yes, the Doctor!" Bailey exclaimed. "You're here to find out who's causing all the accidents, aren't you?"

"Accidents?" Peri repeated, exchanging a mystified look with the Doctor. "What acci­dents?"

Bailey grinned. "Okay, I'll play along," he said cheerily, much to the Time Lord's bewil­der­ment. "We've been having a lot of freak accident over the last ten months or so. Not just here, but on all twelve solar generators. The general consensus is there's a ring of saboteurs at work, but so far the investigation by the locals hasn't turned up anything solid."

"By your tone, I take it you have," the Doctor remarked.

Bailey's smile broadened. "As Chief Technician in charge of generator operations, I have ac­cess to a great deal of information, classified and otherwise. I've been tracking the frequency of the accidents and their movement from generator to generator."

The Doctor was hooked. "And what have you discovered?"

"As near as I can figure, the next accident will be either here or on Generator 5."

"Interesting. A systematic set of accidents caused by an unknown party for an unknown rea­son."

"Exactly. And if I ever get my hands on whoever—" Bailey broke off when some machin­ery suddenly came on. He turned to the control board with a horrified expression on his face. "The generator's starting to power up!" he exclaimed.

Peri was baffled. "Isn't that what it's supposed to do?"

"Not at this angle," the Doctor replied. "If it were to come on now, we'd be burnt to a cin­der."

Bailey flew at the controls, working frantically without success. "I can't shut it down! All the access codes have been changed."

"We've got to get out of here," the Doctor said practically.

The Chief Technician was already climbing the stairs to the catwalk. "No, I'll have to change the position of the screen manually," he called back. "If it comes on at this angle, it'll destroy the whole station—and us with it."

The Doctor needed to know no more. He dragged the baffled Peri over to an equipment locker and thrust her inside commanding that she stay with her back to the door until he returned. He then closed and bolted the door, ignoring Peri's protests.

"Doctor, you can't leave me in here!" she yelled, banging on the door with her fists.

"Keep your back to the door and cover your eyes!" the Time Lord commanded again.

With his companion in the relative safety of the locker, the Doctor went back to the con­trol board, calling out the readings as Bailey frantically worked on the control levers, which had in­explicably seized up. The technician angrily kicked one in frustration and, to his astonishment, it moved, as did the generator screen, swiveling several feet upwards before stopping. The first of three warning bells sounded at the same time announcing the imminent activation of the screen.

Kicking frantically at another lever, Bailey managed to get it freed up, the enormous screen moving a few feet more. He was on his way to a third switch when a second bell went off. The Doctor called from below that he abandon his efforts and come down just as the pro­tection plat­ing dropped into place, sealing the doors. They were running out of time.

"Come down, man!" the Time Lord called. "We've got to take cover before that screen comes on."

"No, Doctor, it's alright," Bailey called back triumphantly, "I've got the last one. You'd bet­ter take cover." He slammed down the last of the seized switches the same instant the third and final alarm sounded.

"Bailey, for pity sake, come down! That was the final warning!" the Doctor yelled. "If you're up there when—" He never finished his sentence. The alarm timer had also been tam­pered with and the generator screen came to life a full minute too soon. Brilliant, white-hot sunlight sud­denly filled the room.

Caught completely off guard, the Doctor screamed in pain, his hands flying to his face. The head-on exposure was excru­ciating and he only managed to spin around before sinking to the floor. Behind him he could hear Bailey's screams of torment as the amplified light burned him to death. He could also feel the heat scorching his clothes, but could not find the strength to move out of the light's deadly path. Fortunately, he did not have to. During the entire assault on his senses, the massive machinery continued to whir steadily, the generator screen swiveling into position. The Doctor felt the room shake as it rocked into alignment. Then he felt numb.


	3. I'm Blind

**Chapter Three**

"**I'm Blind."**

"Doctor! Doctor, let me out of here!"

The Doctor was returned to reality by the sound of Peri's panic-stricken voice and the pound­ing of her fists on the door of the locker. Getting shakily to his feet, he followed the sound, stumbling across the room and finally falling against the door. Pausing a moment to catch his breath, he heard the loud clang overhead that told him the panels sealing off the screen had snapped into place. The unfiltered light was now aimed at the planet below.

"Doctor, what's happening? What's the idea locking me in there for—" Peri broke off when she came out the door and saw the clearly shaken Time Lord leaning back against the locker. "Doctor, are you okay? You look terrible."

Taking a deep breath, the Doctor announced calmly, "I'm afraid I'm blind, Peri."

"What!" Peri gasped, waving a hand in front of his face. Looking around, she saw a stack of boxed where the dazed Time Lord could sit down and guided him over to them.

A moment later the doors were released and a group of technicians in orange uniforms flooded into the room. They came to an abrupt halt at the sight of the time travelers and regarded them warily in an attempt to ascertain whether they were dangerous or not. Once satisfied they were not, they promptly dragged the intruders from the main generator area. Someone was dis­pleased with the Doctor's slow progress and gave him a rough shove that sent him careening into some crates.

"Leave him alone!" Peri snapped angrily. "Can't you see he's hurt?"

Her words fell on deaf ears. The men continued to push and shove them across the enormous room, apparently enjoying their own brutality. By the time they reached the door, Peri had had enough. Just as she was about to start castigating the entire group in earnest, a stocky man named Owen appeared in the door­way, a disapproving scowl on his face. Peri decided he must be the one in charge, be­cause all he did was wave a hand and the others backed off.

"Don't you men have work to do?" the newcomer asked sharply, sending several men scurry­ing from the group.

Giving Peri only a cursory glance, Owen turned his attention to the unresisting Time Lord, making a quick examination of his hands and face. Despite the fact that the Doctor's expo­sure had been brief, the high intensity light had burned him severely, the skin on his unprotected hands seeming to have suffered the worst.

Suddenly a scream of abject horror resounded through the building.

"Owen!" someone screamed from the catwalk. "Owen, my God! It's…there's… Oh, my God!"

"Well, what is it, man?" Owen demanded impatiently.

It was the Doctor who replied, his voice unnaturally calm. "I'm afraid it's Bailey. He's dead."

"What!"

"He wouldn't come down from the catwalk after the second bell sounded. Or the third," the Doctor ex­plained. He felt a sudden chill and wondered almost abstractly if it was caused by the memory of Bailey's death or the fact that he was going into shock. Both perhaps.

A threatening voice from the crowd asked, "Wouldn't or _couldn't?_"

The Doctor did not need his eyes to see the situation was turning ugly again, Peri's grip on his arm tightening in confirmation. He put a reassuring hand on hers and drew himself to his full height, prepared to meet the onslaught of the angry mob.

Suddenly Owen's authoritative voice cut through the tension like a knife. "We'll let Mr. Farrell and those fancy foreign investigators sort this out, my lads. You've all got quite enough to do just getting that generator screen shut down. We don't need to be mixing in with govern­ment af­fairs." There were murmurs of discontent from the group as they grudgingly returned to their du­ties.

Now that his own people had been dealt with, Owen turned back to his prisoners, who were quite possi­bly the most unlikely looking pair of saboteurs he had ever seen. It was obvious the Doctor was in no condition to resist, and equally obvious Peri would not leave his side unless forced. Choosing the path of least resistance, Owen allowed Peri to guide the Doctor the short journey to security.

Just outside the security zone, Owen stopped and turned pointedly to his prisoners. "Look, I don't know how you two got up here," he began in a low, urgent voice, "but it'll go a lot easier if you tell them the truth straight off. Mr. Farrell will probably be the first to take a crack at you and he doesn't take too kindly to strangers."

"Oh, swell," Peri moaned.

The Doctor was no less optimistic. He had always tried to make it a policy to tell the truth, especially when his life was on the line. Unfortunately, no one usually believed him, their minds being too closed to accept anything other than their own version of the truth. "Anything else we shouldn't like to know?" he asked mildly.

Owen laughed nervously before leading his prisoners into the security area, having them wait in a small holding room while he went to formally turn them over for questioning. After several minutes he re­turned to inform them that a transport had been dispatched to take them to the planet's surface. He produced a tube of ointment and gave it to Peri, explaining that she should use it to treat the Doctor's burns.

"Thank-you. That's more than decent of you," the Time Lord said quietly.

"I don't usually get involved in government affairs myself," the big man informed nerv­ously, "but I've been burned myself and I know what you're going through" Pausing, he added, "If I can get to a transmitter, maybe I can get someone I know to…" His voice trailed off and he smiled self-con­sciously.

"Friends in high places?" the Doctor asked in a tone that was a great deal more cheerful than he actually felt.

Peri saw an odd look come to the technician's face before he muttered, "You might say that." Catching his eye, she gestured to her own eyes in an obvious question about the Doctor. Owen threw a quick glance in the Doctor's direction before he shook his head sadly. Giving a small, self-conscious smile, he quickly vanished through the door.

After several minutes a security guard came and roughly escorted the time travelers to a wait­ing shuttle where they were again locked up. Peri took advantage of the time in flight to treat the Doctor's burns. She could tell they were giving him a great deal of pain despite his ef­forts to conceal it. The ointment proved to be an extremely soothing analgesic and deadened the pain on contact.

After several minutes of tedium and since there wasn't any­thing else to do, Peri got up to ex­plore their cabin. The Doctor listened abstractly as his companion moved around, informing him of the contents of the room. Leaning forward, he sighed heavily, his hands over his aching eyes. _How could I have been so careless?_ he thought darkly.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Peri asked concernedly, sitting down beside him and touching him on the arm.

Lowering his hands, the Time Lord sat back and gave a brief smile. "Yes, Peri, I'm fine. Just a bit tired, that's all." He tried to sound unconcerned but inwardly he was anything but. He had been incredibly careless and was now paying the price. He never should have been facing the generator screen when it came on and wondered just how extensively he had damaged his eyes. He was fairly certain it was permanent damage, which meant total blindness until his next regen­era­tion.

These uncharacteristically melancholy thoughts were interrupted when the Doctor sud­denly became aware of the fact that his companion was still clinging very tightly to his arm. She was telling him about an incident that had occurred a long time ago, but it was not this that that had gained his attention. It was the sound of her voice rather than her words that had brought him back to reality. Peri was still very frightened, and he reminded himself that the last thing she needed was for him to go to pieces. After all, he thought darkly, there would be plenty of time for him to do that later.


	4. To The Surface

**Chapter Four**

**To The Surface**

After passing through the atmosphere, the shutters on the cabin windows opened, allowing Peri a bird's eye view of the planet below. She had seen just a quick glimpse of the satellite before the shutters were lowered, and was pleased to be able to see out again, although at first they were too high in the clouds for her to see anything other than a sprawling city below.

As the shuttle passed over the outer edges of the city, she could see several large fires that seemed to be burning out of control in the distance. There were also several buildings that looked as though a bomb had been dropped on them.

"Looks like there's been a war," she remarked. "Lots of people in the streets, though." She paused, adding, "Wow, what a mob."

"Peri, tell me _exactly_ what you see," the Doctor instructed, his mind taking in all the informa­tion his compan­ion supplied as the shuttle moved in for a landing.

"Well, it's either a war, a demonstration, a riot, or someone's soccer team lost the World cup." She went on to describe the whole, horrific scene.

Outside the window she could see hundreds, possibly thousands of people in the streets. Win­dows were being smashed, more fires were set, and looting was rampant. She could see no sign of any police or military intervention. Apparently this mob was running unchecked throughout this part of the city.

Peri was about to make a snide remark about what a nice place the Doctor had brought her to when she saw him cover his eyes in pain again. _No_, she thought, _he's got enough on his mind. Better not make it worse._

Suddenly they both had enough on their minds when one of the cabin windows abruptly ex­ploded in a shower of glass.

"Doctor, get down!" Peri shouted, diving to the floor. "They're shooting at us!"

"Nice of them to warn us we were flying into a war zone," the Doctor remarked aridly as his companion crawled over to him.

"Why don't they just put the shutters back down?" Peri asked as a second window was blown out.

"There's a good question," the Time Lord responded. "Let's just hope they don't hit anything vital or we won't be around to be asking any questions at all."

The time travelers had to grab hold of whatever was at hand to keep from being thrown across the room as the shuttle banked sharply. Obviously the pilot was attempting to avoid fur­ther damage from below.

The shuttle lost several more windows before reaching the safety of its underground hanger. The Doctor and Peri could hear a great deal of activity as the crew attempted to deal with the damage. There were shouts from out in the hanger that filtered in through the broken windows, and Peri chanced a quick peek, seeing a group of uniformed men heading towards the ship.

"Our escort, presumably," the Doctor observed darkly.

* * *

The journey from the hanger bay to their final destination was no less hair raising than the land­ing. The time travelers were loaded into an armored transport vehicle that slowly moved out into the streets.

"I'm not sure I want to be this up close and personal with this planet, Doctor," Peri remarked as the transport plowed straight through the thronging crowd.

"We don't seem to've been given a choice," the Time Lord replied darkly. After a moment, he said, "It's interesting, don't you think? They think you and I are some sort of saboteurs, yet from what you tell me, they're totally ignoring a rampaging riot right on their doorstep. Some­body's sense of priorities is rather skewed."

"If you ask me, they're all a bunch of raving lunatics."

As the vehicle moved ever onward, there was the sound of fists hammering on the side. There were also screams and angry shouts as well as the occasional bump that the Doctor felt certain came from someone being struck and then run over. Eventually the noise stopped as they emerged for the crowd, much to Peri's relief. She was certain her ears would be ringing for days after this.

After another half an hour, they arrived at their final destination. The time travelers were greeted with more guards and just a little civility. Peri stayed as close to the Doctor as possible, but as soon as they reached the prison area they were separated.

The Doctor was dragged into what he assumed was an interrogation room and thrust into a very hard wooden chair. It was there that he patiently waited for another half an hour. He rec­og­nized the technique immediately, of course, and suspected there was very likely a two-way mir­ror or cam­era in the room that enabled his captors to observe his reactions, since it seemed ap­parent they were attempting to unnerve him.

When the Chief Inquisitor finally arrived the Doctor could tell by his voice that he was disap­pointed his ploy had not worked. He was even further disappointed when the Time Lord failed to give any of the proper fearful responses to the threats being made if he did not cooperate.

"Mr. Farrell," the Doctor said mildly once the Inquisitor finished his tirade, "I'll be only too happy to cooperate in any way I can." He paused a beat before adding pointedly, "If you'll give me a chance, that is."

Farrell ground his teeth in annoyance, realizing at the same time that his prisoner had man­aged to make a fool of him without even trying. He took a seat across the table and listened as the Doctor patiently told his story that, not to the Time Lord's great surprise, was not be­lieved.

"Surely you can come up with something better than that, can't you?" Farrell said challeng­ingly, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Of course. But you said you wanted the truth," the Doctor replied blandly. Hearing Farrell growl, he made a mental note that this man probably had a very short fuse and therefore should not be provoked further.

"The truth is," the Inquisitor snarled, "you and your confederate went to Generator 4 to sabo­tage it. When Chief Technician Anderson discovered you there, you killed him. But before you could escape the generator came on and your own handiwork trapped you. How am I doing so far?"

The Doctor remained silent, groaning inwardly. Things were going just as badly as he ex­pected. He sighed heavily when Farrell started demanding the names of his contacts, his em­ployer, and so on, and so forth.

"Maybe the King's lot can get something out of him," a voice suddenly suggested, causing the Doctor to jump. He had not realized there was another person in the room, and the fact that he was behind him did nothing to ease his mind.

Oblivious to this reaction, which he could have utilized to his advantage, Farrell jumped to his feet and snapped angrily, "No! This is still _my_ investigation. I'm not about to hand the first real lead I've had in months over to that prattling old man. He's only in charge because of a bu­reaucratic loophole. What does he know about running a criminal investigation?"

The guard shrugged and opened his mouth, only to be cut off by Farrell. "I'll tell you what he knows. _Nothing!_ And that's what he's going to get from me."

_So there_, the Doctor thought as he heard the Inquisitor drop heavily into his seat.

"Alright, Doctor," Farrell said coldly, "we'll go over it again. And this time, I want the truth."


	5. Commander Daniels

**Chapter Five**

**Commander Daniels**

After being separated from the Doctor, Peri was taken to a barred enclosure with a wooden table and two chairs set in front of it. She was locked inside and then abandoned but unlike the Doctor, who was more used to all this nonsense than he care to admit, she was extremely frightened. She started imagining all sorts of horrors that might be in store for her, and was uncertain as to whether she should be glad or not when two uniformed individuals finally appeared. She soon decided on the latter when they began firing one accusation after another at her without allowing her a chance to fully answer, or explain.

During the course of one of these distressing barrages, another man appeared. To describe him as large would have been an understatement, his dark chiseled features only adding to his vaguely Frankenstonian appear­ance. He was dressed in a uniform that was com­pletely different from any Peri had seen thus far and she wondered if he was from a different branch of whatever passed as a military on this God-forsaken planet. He came and stood over her inquisi­tors and she saw them shrink away, obviously they too were terri­fied of this mountain of a man.

"Why was his Majesty not immediately informed of the events on Generator 4?" the giant newcomer demanded in a voice that sounded like controlled thunder.

"I…don't know, Commander," came the nervous reply. "I'm sure…it was merely an…over­sight."

The Commander smiled with effort. "Of course. Surely that must be it," he said urbanely, his tone doing nothing to conceal the fact that he did not believe a word. He threw a glance in Peri's direction and said firmly, "You will release this young woman into my custody, Major."

The Major was now on feet. "I can't do that!"

"Need I remind you that it is his Majesty who is in charge of this investigation, despite what Mr. Farrell would like to believe?" the Com­mander said frostily.

"No. But…I…I really think I should wait..."

The Commander snorted indignantly, reaching over and removing the keys from the aston­ished officer's belt. He unlocked the cell door and then tossed the keys back onto the table. "You can wait until doomsday for all I care. It'll change nothing." Turning to face the baffled, and now terrified Peri, the big man pulled the door open and said, "Come with me."

Peri did not move. "Where?"

"Out of here," came the cryptic reply.

* * *

Once they were away from the prison area, the Commander turned to his frightened prisoner. "What's your name?"

Peri jumped, startled by the suddenness of the question and the gentleness with which it was spoken. "Mmmmy name…is…is Perpugilliam Brown."

The big man looked down at her in disbelief. "Do people actually call you that?"

"Nnno…" she stammered out. "They usually call me…Peri."

"How wise of them," he remarked. As they boarded an elevator he noticed she was trem­bling almost as badly as her voice. "I'm Commander Daniels, Peri," he said gently, "and you needn't be afraid of me. Those two may think I'm an ogre, but I'm not. You just think of me as your es­cort."

Peri smiled in spite of herself, thinking how impressed her friends would have been had she turned up at a party with this Goliath as her escort. "Where are you escorting me to?" she said in as even a tone as she could manage.

"My sovereign has been placed in charge of this fiasco of an investigation and he wishes to speak with you personally." Seeing Peri was less than enthused, Daniels smiled. "His Majesty isn't an ogre, either. Nor is he nearly as unpleasant as those two downstairs."

Despite his size, Daniels was not nearly as terrifying as he looked and as they continued through the enormous building, Peri started to relax. Eventually she worked up the courage to ask about the Doctor.

The Commander stopped dead in his tracks. "There was someone else with you?" he gasped.

Peri shrank back. "Yes. I…thought you knew." Seeing the officer's face darken, she was on the verge of panic and was greatly relieved when Daniels did nothing more terrifying than sigh heavily.

"No, I didn't know," he said at last. "They only told me about you. Why, I wonder?" Seeing her panicked expression, he smiled. "Don't worry. I'll find your friend before anything nasty happens."

As they continued on, her escort explained that his King had commandeered a portion of the State House for his people to use during their independent investigation.

"State House? The place looks like a fortress from outside," the American remarked.

The Commander gave a small smile. "It used to be, thankfully. With all the riots going on lately, it's that much easier to defend."

"Nice planet you've got here," she observed sarcastically.

"Not mine," the officer responded darkly. "My world is light-years from this God-forsaken place. And I'm not just talking distance."

Arriving at their destination at last, Peri was shown into a large paneled room. She looked around curiously as she entered. To her immediate right were several bookshelves that met at the corner. One section contained a large collection of mismatched jars, some of which were very delicate and ornate, while others were quite ordinary. There were a number of chairs ar­ranged in a semicircle in front of the shelves with spotlights overhead that Peri assumed com­prised a sit­ting or reading area. To her left she saw more chairs lined up against the wall, possibly extras for guests…or meetings. Further on were a set of French doors leading outside. They were flanked by an enormous set of heavy draperies that looked as though they would conceal the entire wall when drawn. Directly across the room was a smaller door beside which was a counter that ran the remaining length of the wall. There was a large elliptical conference table just to one side of the door that, at first glance seemed to have been over polished. It wasn't until Peri drew nearer that she realized it was made of a glasslike material identical to that in the view screen on the wall at the far end. "Was this converted from a conference room or into one?" she wondered aloud.

Daniels smiled and held out a hand towards armchairs in the book corner, inviting her to sit down. "I don't suppose they gave you anything to eat while you were down there, did they?" he asked, quickly answering his own question, "No, of course they didn't. Don't worry. I'll have something sent up."

As the Commander moved toward the door, Peri suddenly felt terrified. "Hey! You're not just leaving me here, are you?" she called out fearfully.

"Shouldn't I?"

"Aren't you afraid I might escape or something?"

"I suspect," came a calm voice from across the room, "you're probably more afraid of what might happen if you escaped than if you stayed."


	6. A Lunatic Plan

**Chapter Six**

**A Lunatic Plan **

Startled by the unexpected reply, Peri caught her breath and turned to see an old man in royal finery standing in the doorway that had been closed when she entered. She wasn't sure what she had expected the dreaded monarch to look like, but she knew it wasn't any­thing like this white haired old gentleman who stood leaning atop his tall silver tipped cane studying her curiously. He was of average height and build but looked tiny when compared to the Com­mander, who bowed slightly as the monarch took a few steps into the room.

"Majesty, this is Miss Brown. The young woman found on Generator 4," the Commander in­formed.

The King nodded and waved a hand, dismissing the officer, yet Daniels stayed where he was. "Was there something else, Commander?"

To Peri's surprise, the officer replied in the most extraordinary language she had ever heard. The King listened attentively, but his reaction was difficult to gauge. She was not sure if he was surprised, satisfied, or upset by what was said. He replied in the same unintelligible manner be­fore dismissing the Commander a second time. Daniels threw a quick smile in her direction, bowed, and withdrew.

The King surprised Peri yet again when he crossed the room. Because of his aged appear­ance and the cane in his hand, she had expected to see him shuffle over to her, yet he moved swiftly and stood erect when he stopped to inspect her. After a moment, his eyes spar­kled and he smiled engagingly. "Has anyone bothered to feed you, Miss Brown?"

Peri motioned in the direction the Commander had taken. "Your…eh, Daniels…well, he…"

The monarch smiled approvingly. "Good old Daniels. He's always one step ahead of me." Holding out a hand, he invited his apprehensive guest to be seated, taking a seat opposite her. "Now…I believe I'm supposed to interrogate you," he sighed thoughtfully. "What was it they used to say? Put the screws to you?" Seeing Peri's horrified expression, he chuckled and waved a hand in the air. "Don't look so worried, Miss Brown. I'm much too old for all that cloak and dag­ger nonsense. Why don't you just tell me all about it—starting with how you got into the gen­erator area."

_Here we go again_, Peri thought, drawing a deep breath. "You're not going to believe me," she stated matter of factly.

The old King's eyes were positively dancing. Placing his hands atop his cane, he raised an eyebrow, a small smile coming to his face. "My dear young woman, I haven't even heard your story yet. First you're supposed to tell it to me. _Then_ I'm sup­posed to tell you whether I believe it or not."

* * *

After grilling the Doctor for several hours without success, Farrell decided to use un­pleasant means of ex­tracting the truth, and ordered the mind probe activated. He hoped that just the men­tion of the device would be sufficient enough to persuade his prisoner to reveal the names of his employer and contacts. The Doctor calmly pointed out that since he had never been employed by anyone, it would be impossible for him to reveal anything.

Thoroughly enraged, Farrell chose to carry out his threat and ordered the Doctor taken to the mind probe room this was located in the State House's old dungeon area. Midway through the journey, the group was stopped by the Major whom Daniels had af­fronted earlier. The guard re­lated the entire incident to the increasingly annoyed Farrell.

"Does Daniels know about him yet?" the Chief Inquisitor asked, nodding in the Doctor's direc­tion.

"He didn't say so, but that girl would've told him by now," the Major replied.

Farrell cursed under his breath. "Interfering bunch of foreigners," he grumbled.

The Doctor had listened to this exchanged until his attention was caught by something star­tling. He suddenly realized he was standing in front of the open door to the elevator. The Major's ap­pearance had halted his escorts' progress and no one had, as yet, boarded the waiting lift. As the doors started to close, a plan suddenly sprang into the Time Lord's mind. It was a lunatic plan to be sure, as it required split second timing if it was to have a ghost of a chance of working.

To the Doctor's amazement, it did.

Just before the doors were completely closed, he threw himself backwards and through the opening, catching everyone completely off guard, their never having expected any problems from a blind and handcuffed prisoner. The Doctor's hands were instantly at the controls and he pushed several buttons, heaving a sigh of relief when he felt the car starting to move. Having ab­solutely no idea where he was going (other than up) he let the car stop on the first floor he reached where, to his added relief, no one got on. He got off at the next floor, letting the elevator continue on.

The Doctor stood motionless for a moment, listening. All was silent and he wondered if it were nighttime, which would help him greatly since he was already working in the dark. As he groped along the wall of the hallway in search of an open door, he reflected almost hysterically on how this put new meaning to the term running blind.

* * *

All the events on the planet's surface, as well as those on the generators were continuously transmitted through the spatial rift and into the alternate dimension. This was accomplished by way of several collection points where someone under Ormril's influence was operating. The negative energies being generated in these areas were drawn off by Ormril's creation to be stored, ab­sorbed or utilized as needed. Whenever monitoring became necessary, the images from the col­lection points could be displayed, either individually or simultaneously.

Peri's removal from the prison area, as well as the Doctor's daring escape, had enraged Ormril. Suddenly these perplexing strangers were outside of his sphere of influence and could pose a threat, however small. His displeasure was relayed to his entity, along with the command that it monitor _all_ col­lection points until the prisoners were located.

The being in the cloud acknowledged the order, absently noting that its Master was not pleased, which was not unusual since the Master was rarely pleased. This last stray thought puz­zled the creature, as had a number of things of late, none the least of which was its own prisoner.

Endless weeks had passed since Juris learned of his impending death by absorption, and he had resigned himself to the fact that he would never leave his prison alive. Unfortunately, there was nothing he could do but helplessly watch as Ormril's plans took shape. Not wanting to spend his last days brooding over his fate, and with nothing else to do, Juris had taken to fanta­sizing as to the form that might be lurking within the cloud of smoke. After all, if it was going to study him, he might as well study it back.

Once the torturous de­mands for information had stopped, the entity's voice stayed the lighter, less intimidating one. Its flat, emotionless quality reminded him of a woman his parents had known when he was a boy. Like the creature, she was incapable of expressing emotion. His fa­ther had taken to calling her _The Black Star_ behind her back; for she, too, was cold, dead, and never to shine again. With this image in mind, Juris started calling his captor Asta, which he re­membered meant star. After a few weeks, and much to his surprise, a distinctly female voice started to develop and the being actually began responding to the name.

Juris was jolted back to reality when the cloud abruptly reappeared, the view screen com­ing to life the same instant. The screen then grew to an enormous size, curving up and around the walls as all collec­tion points were displayed simultaneously. As the violence on the planet esca­lated, the negative energies escalated also, increasing to the point where Juris had started feeling them, despite the imprisoning force field. It was not until that moment that he realized how much mental energy was being channeled through his physical self and he shuddered at the thought of what that was doing to him.

One section of the enlarged viewer showed Bailey's charred remains being prepared for trans­port back to the planet's surface. Juris looked at it and shook his head. "What a horrible way to die."

"This man would have interfered with the opening of the gateway," Asta informed mat­ter of factly.

"So your Master had him killed," Juris said bitterly.

"Correct."

"And he'll kill the Doctor and the girl, too, won't he?"

The entity replied without hesitation, "If they will not serve him, yes."


	7. This Isn't What You Think

**Chapter Seven**

"**This Isn't What You Think."**

Not having much of an appetite, Peri had eaten very little and apologized to her Royal host. He was such an odd little man, she thought, so unlike anyone in authority she had met thus far. Even if everyone did say he was out of his tree, at least he'd had the decency to listen to her entire story, his face revealing nothing of what was going on behind his bright, sparkling eyes. There were times when Peri had the feeling that, even though his body was old, his mind was still very active. Whether or not it functioned properly was another matter entirely.

"…and then Daniels brought me to you," Peri was saying, concluding her story for what she hoped was the last time.

After a thoughtful silence, the King said, "You say this friend of yours…"

"The Doctor."

"Yes, the Doctor. He was hurt by the generator screen?"

Peri nodded, pulling out the ointment Owen had given her. "I put this on his burns, and he said it helped. But…" Her voice trailed off and the King looked up expectantly. "Yes?"

Unable to contain her frustration any longer, Peri exploded, "But he's blind! And he's hurt! And nobody here seems to give a tinker's damn about it!"

The old man seems startled by this unexpected outburst and held up his hands. "Calm your­self, my dear, I'm sure we can get this all sorted out if we just keep our heads."

Thinking she might be blowing any chance of ever seeing the Doctor again, Peri tried to calm down. "I'm sorry, your Majesty. I know it's not your fault."

"That's quite alright, Miss Brown," the King said soothingly. "I suspect you're probably very tired. And…not just a little bit frightened, too, I imagine." Receiving a hesitant half-smile, he gave a small grunt of satisfaction. He rose to his feet and went over to a communication screen near the inner door where he summoned an escort from his private security force.

Just as the guard arrived, a series of alarms went off in another wing of the building an­nounc­ing the Doctor's escape. The King went to the French doors and looked out into the darkness. There were no stars visible, nor any moon, yet the sky was still aglow, illuminated by the fires that still raged out of control throughout the city. The en­closed courtyard below was suddenly awash with light, dozens of men pouring into it from every side. They swarmed around a man who was presumably the one in charge, although it was difficult to tell. Everyone seemed to be shouting at once. Eventually order was restored and the officer in charge started barking out or­ders.

The King turned away from this chaotic scene, a wry smile coming to his face. "They cer­tainly do keep active, don't they?" he observed amusedly.

Peri had not been thrilled with the idea of returning to the prison area and was amazed and relieved when the King ordered her taken to one of the rooms in his commandeered portion of the State House. "But…I thought I was under arrest," she said in bewilderment.

"And so you are, my dear," came the amiable reply. "But that doesn't mean you have to be subjected to barbaric treatment, does it?"

"Majesty," the guard injected concernedly, "I would prefer that you did not remain un­guarded tonight. Those alarms mean—"

"I'm well aware of what the alarms mean, Corporal," the King cut in sharply. "I'll be per­fectly fine. And once they turn off those noisy things we can all get a good night's sleep."

Just as the guard turned to take Peri out, the monarch was struck by a sudden thought. "Corpo­ral, no one is to know where Miss Brown is being held, is that clear? Tell the Commander that only our people are to be informed."

"Yes, my Lord."

Peri wasn't sure whether to be frightened or relieved by this. "You…uh, expecting trouble, your Majesty?" she asked shakily.

"Expecting it?" the King laughed. "My dear young woman, I've sent for it."

* * *

In another part of the State House, the Doctor had also heard the alarms as well as the sound of numerous booted feet moving ever closer in pursuit. Finding another elevator (or perhaps it was the same one, as he had no idea where he was going) the Doctor took a chance and continued ever higher in the building, hoping to elude his pursuers.

Hurriedly groping his way down an unexpectedly long and curving hallway, the Time Lord came upon a heavy wooden door and ran his hands over its intricately carved surface in search of the handle. He found it and, to his joy, it turned in his hand. He opened the door and crossed the threshold just as the pursuing guards reached the top of the landing a few yards behind him.

"There he is!" someone called.

Needing no further prompting, the Doctor slammed the door shut. He found the bolt and drove it home just seconds before the guards arrived on the other side. Heaving a sigh of relief, the exhausted Time Lord leaned heavily against the door, hearing the muffled sound of cursing on the other side.

The frustrated guards suddenly began pounding on the heavy wooden barrier, startling the Doctor, who backed away, bumped into a chair, lost his balance, and ended up sitting down. For a single, fleeting instant he entertained the notion of not getting up. "This is senseless," he mut­tered, not sure himself why he had tried to escape. How could he possibly hope to get away? The TARDIS was still on the satellite, and Peri was still being held prisoner _somewhere_ in the build­ing. Then, of course, there was the fact that he didn't have the vaguest idea where he was, or even where he was going. On top of all that, his burns were giving him a great deal of pain and he was developing a splitting headache, the latter of which would have made seeing straight dif­ficult. If he were able to see, that is, he thought darkly.

This rare moment of self-pity was interrupted when a door on the far side of the room opened. The newcomer stood in the doorway silently studying the transient Time Lord and ig­noring the fists that continued to hammer on the main door.

The Doctor heard the rustle of garments as his silent observer entered the room and held up his manacled hands in surrender. "This isn't what you think," he said quickly.

"It never is," the King sighed enigmatically as he crossed to the door. Throwing a quick glance in the trapped Time Lord's direction, he said sharply, "They won't see you there, so what­ever you do, keep quiet." With that he threw the bolt and pulled the door open.

The unexpected command quite naturally took the Doctor off guard, leaving him uncharac­teristically at a loss for words. Far greater was his surprise when he felt a rush of air across his face and realized he was concealed behind the massive door.

The Time Lord's pursuers were equally surprised when the heavy wooden barrier abruptly swung open. One of the guards was in the process of hurling himself at it and ended up sprawled at the monarch's feet. The old man regarded him steadily a moment before slowly lift­ing his gaze to the others.

"Mr. Farrell!" he snapped angrily. "Is all this _really_ necessary? If you wanted to see me, all you had to do was contact my secretary. He could easily have arranged—"

"My apologies for having disturbed you like this, your Majesty," Farrell cut in, "but there's a dangerous prisoner at large in the building. He was being transferred to a high security area when—"

"I'm not really interested in the details," the King interrupted blandly. "All I want to know is, couldn't you've found a quieter way of informing me than breaking down my door in the middle of the night?"

The Doctor listened to this exchange in a combination of amusement, bewilderment, and awe; not quite believing it himself that he had actually managed to take refuge in the apartments of the visiting monarch. More amazing still was the fact that the eccentric King seemed to be shielding him. Why, he did not know, and wondered if somehow he and Peri had become em­broiled in an elaborate power struggle.

By this time Farrell was controlling his anger with visible effort. "We were trying to break down your door because we've just seen the prisoner run in there," he hissed.

There was a long pause as the old King apparently mulled this over in his mind. "Well, in that case…" he said finally, pulling the door even wider, "you'd better come in."

The Doctor tensed as the men tromped noisily into the room. He was certain he was about to be betrayed, yet the monarch remained firmly planted beside the door. Had he been able to see him, the Doctor would have observed the old gentleman leaning casually upon his tall cane, his long voluminous dressing gown flaring out to effectively conceal the trapped Time Lord behind him.

"Where do these lead?" someone asked, indicating the French doors.

"To the balcony surrounding the courtyard," came the weary reply. "It's not much of a view, in my opinion."

Farrell snorted indignantly. "I presume you keep them locked at all times."

"Why in heaven's name would I do that?"

Another growl rose in Farrell's throat. He ordered his men to continue the search. "Might I suggest, your Majesty, that you keep _all_ your doors locked tonight." He punctuated his remark by slamming the door behind him.

"If I did that," the monarch remarked disdainfully, "people couldn't get in."


	8. The Odd, Yet Amiable King

**Chapter Eight**

**The Odd, Yet Amiable King**

The King closed and bolted the heavy main door, going on to do the same with the French doors, finishing up by drawing the thick drapes. Then, heaving what sounded very much like a sigh of relief, he turned his attention to the Doctor, who was leaning wearily back in his chair, his eyes closed.

"Are you as exhausted as you look?" the old man asked mildly as he crossed the room.

The gentleness of the inquiry was as unexpected as the harshness of the command, and caused the Doctor to suspect the King was a great deal more than the harmless lunatic Farrell had made him out to be. This became even more apparent now that they were alone, the monarch's manner changing dramatically. He took the unresisting Time Lord by the arm and guided him to the book corner where he removed the handcuffs and carefully examined his burned hands and face. Then, just as carefully, he applied Peri's ointment to his blistering hands.

"Your friend Miss Brown, tells me Owen Newgate gave this salve to her," the King informed quietly. "And a good thing, too, or you'd be losing a lot more than a layer of skin now."

More interested in his companion's welfare than his own, the Doctor started. "Peri? Is she alright? She's not—?"

"She's alright, Doctor, don't worry," came the gentle reply. "My people have her safely under lock and key where Farrell and his lot can't get at her."

The Doctor was not sure if this news should please him or not. "She's not involved in any of this," he said quickly.

"Oh? And you are, I take it?" the monarch cut in amusedly.

The Doctor chose not to respond, hearing the King chuckle softly. He then expected to hear the usual proclamation that this was as good as an admission of guilt. Instead, he heard, "Never mind. One thing at a time. Let me finish with this first."

The Doctor found his host's quiet benevolence as soothing as the ointment and allowed himself to relax slightly, leaning back in the chair as the medication was applied to his face.

"Is that any better?" the King asked once he finished.

"Yes. Thank-you."

"Do you think you could handle some food? You're probably not very hungry because of the pain, but you really should try to eat something."

The Doctor scowled, unable to fathom this extraordinary individual. As an interrogation tech­nique, this was a first for him, and that was saying a lot. "Aren't you going to question me first?" he asked suspiciously.

"Must I?" came the amused response. "I was hoping you'd just tell me how you got into this appalling condition."

* * *

After eating only a small amount, the Doctor was almost his old self again and felt strong enough to relate his side of the story yet again. As he spoke he became aware of the King moving around in one corner of the room, but whenever he stopped talking his host assured him that he was lis­tening and bade him continue. When he finished, the Doctor expected to hear the same angry scoffs of disbelief as before. Instead he heard only a resigned sigh.

"So…now they're resorting to cold-blooded murder," the monarch said at last, an angry and bitter edge to his voice.

"Your Majesty, I did not kill Bailey Anderson," the Doctor stated categorically.

"Good heavens, Doctor, I never said that you did!"

The Time Lord merely snorted in reply. A small cup was unexpectedly pressed into his hands and he stiffened visibly. "What's this?"

"A noxious tasting concoction that—believe it or not—will help restore your sight," came the succinct reply.

"Will it, indeed?" the Doctor said, his tone doing nothing to hide his disbelief.

"Would you rather I told you it was a dose of poison?"

The Doctor grunted noncommittally before cautiously tasting the contents of the cup, winc­ing as he did so. Even if it wasn't toxic, it certainly tasted it.

"Come on, Doctor," the gentle voice encouraged. "You can trust me."

This was not the first time the King's words and tone had puzzled the Doctor, and he won­dered what he had done to make this strange monarch treat him in so familiar a manner. Decid­ing he had nothing to lose, he took a deep breath and drank the contents of the cup, having to force down the last portion. A glass of water was then pressed into his hand and he drained its con­tents gratefully.

"_That_ was terrible," the Doctor said at last, causing his host to laugh.

"I did warn you."

"That doesn't help," the Time Lord responded darkly.

The King moved away, only to stop and turn back. He tried several times to say something, stopping himself each time.

Sensing the sudden change in mood, the Doctor was immediately apprehensive and stiffened visibly, wondering if someone had entered the room without his realizing. "Is something wrong?" he asked in as even a tone as possible.

The old man looked up sharply, a ghost of a smile passing across his face. Clearing his throat, he admitted, "No. It's just…well, I should've warned you. That drink. It'll make you feel pretty groggy."

Already feeling the effects, the Doctor sighed heavily. "It's a bit late for that now, isn't it?" he said muzzily.

"Ye-es," came the guilty reply. "Sorry about that. It'll pass, Doctor, don't worry. Just…try to relax."

_Relax!_ the Doctor thought, _he must be joking? How can I possibly relax with...with...? Why do I feel so strange?_ He tried to ask but found he was too weak to even move. To his dis­may, he realized his seemingly benevolent host had just drugged him very heavily.

* * *

"Doctor…Doctor, wake up. Please, wake up."

The pleading voice echoed tantalizingly in the distance as the Time Lord moved through the haze in his mind. He followed the sound in a detached sort of way before realizing it was not a dream. He eventually broke the surface of consciousness and slowly opened his eyes.

The voice turning out to be Peri who had been trying to wake him for more than an hour. "Oh, thank goodness," she sighed gratefully, "I didn't think you were _ever_ going to wake up."

The Doctor smiled weakly and sat up, discovering with a jolt that his sight had returned, the sunlight stabbing into his eyes like a hot knife. A cry of pain escaped him and he covered his eyes with his hands, leaning forward in his seat until the pain subsided. Then slowly, very slowly, he took his hands away, looking over to his dismayed and then delighted companion.

"Doctor, you can see!" she gasped.

"So it would appear," he replied with a relieved smile.

Rising somewhat shakily to his feet, the Time Lord took in the curious room carefully, turn­ing his gaze to the portion of the room where his host had been moving around while he was re­lating his story. He went over to the mismatched collection of jars containing what he assumed had been used to drug him. Since he was still alive and obviously unharmed, he wondered as to the reasons behind it. Turning back to his companion, he inquired after their odd, yet amiable, host.

"Odd, yet amiable," the King repeated amusedly as he came in from the next room. "I don't think I've ever been described quite like that before." With a broad smile, he added, "Welcome back to the land of the living, Doctor. We thought you were going to sleep this beautiful day away."

Finally able to scrutinize the man who had acted so inexplicably the night before, the Doctor said nothing, responding only with a dark look. Catching the inquisitive nature of the look, the white-haired gentleman held out his arms. "Well? Do I meet with your approval?"

"Your dose of poison does—to a limited degree."

"Good. Just don't ask me what was in it. I can assure you, you don't want to know."

The Doctor and Peri exchanged glances as the King crossed to the conference table, his expres­sion now serious. He switched on the computer and entered several commands into the keyboard. A holo­graphic image of Solar Generator 4 suddenly appeared above the table's shiny surface.

"Now, from what I understand, Doctor," the old monarch began thoughtfully, "you said Bailey Anderson told you the generator program had been tampered with, changing the ac­cess codes and throwing off the alarm timers."

Intrigued, the Doctor moved closer to the floating image.

"And Owen Newgate informs me," the King went on, "that the preliminary findings of the generator's technical staff concluded that a power surge was responsible for the erasure of all the security codes. They could not, however, explain why the manual control switches had seized up at this point here." He pointed to the position at the top of the catwalk.

"Interesting, don't you think?" the Doctor remarked. "Since that's exactly were Bailey was when he died."

The King nodded but made no reply, his face darkening further. Absently stroking the beard on his chin, he stood studying the image, apparently lost in thought.

The Doctor blinked, suddenly realizing something extraordinary. "You believe me, don't you?"

The old man looked up in bewilderment. "What?"

"You believe I had nothing to do with this, don't you?"

"Well, of course I do. Why wouldn't I?"

"Because, your Majesty, you're the first person I've met who hasn't accused me of lying out­right. Please allow me to congratulate you on your open mindedness."

"At last! Praise from his master's lips!" the monarch exclaimed with a squeak of delight. "And you don't have to keep calling me your Majesty all the time, Doctor. I can assure you, we're quite alone here."

The Doctor gave him a baffled look, turning to his equally baffled companion. "You'll for­give my ignorance…"

"Good Lord! You mean…you don't know? You actually don't know?" The monarch laughed out loud at what seemed to be a very funny private joke. "And here I thought that's why you came to me last night!" Unable to contain himself, he burst into laughter again.

"You'll forgive the pun, but I'm still in the dark."

"Would it help if I told you I sent for you?"

"_You! You_ had the TARDIS pulled of course?" The Doctor was not quite sure if he should be angry or not.

"You'll forgive me, I hope, because I really need your help. I'm into something here that's way over my head."

"I'm already out of my depth," Peri injected, now thoroughly confused. "Just who are you, anyway."

Unable to keep a straight face, the amused monarch said, "Officially, I'm His Most Royal Majesty King Jason of Tel-Shye, but usually the Doctor just calls me Jason." The look on the Time Lord's face caused his one time traveling companion to stiffen visibly. "Usually. After this, I may not want to hear what he has to call me."


	9. What Is Going On?

**Chapter Nine**

"**What Is Going On?"**

The Doctor stood staring, apparently unable to take in what he was being told. "No! That's not pos­sible," he said at last.

His old friend scowled. "Why ever not?" he wanted to know.

"Because—" Cutting himself off, the Doctor turned sharply to the main door, recalling how it had been used to shield him. Then the King's puzzling and unusually familiar remarks returned to his mind. Remarks that would be perfectly natural coming from a friend. "Good Lord," he said at last, "that would make sense."

"And I never did before, I suppose?" Jason snorted. "Surely the Time Lords—" He caught his breath as a sudden thought struck him. "They _did_ tell you I sent for you, didn't they?"

The Doctor shook his head. "I'm afraid not."

The monarch cursed under his breath. "I should've known this would happen, damn them!"

The Doctor cleared his throat. "Even if they had told me, I doubt I'd've found you looking like that."

"Really? Am I so different that even _you_ don't know me?" The King's body shimmered and his appearance suddenly changed, going from the kindly old gentleman to a slightly older ver­sion of the young man the Doctor remembered so vividly. "Or, do you just prefer the younger me?"

Peri let out a squeal of alarm as the King's snow-white hair abruptly shortened, curled and went jet black. The wrinkled face became smooth, the beard vanishing to reveal the hand­some face of a thirty year old. "Doctor, he's another Kamelion!" she gasped in horror, the mem­ory of the shape-changing robot still fresh in her mind.

Jason knew Peri would react to his transmutation, but had not expected abject terror and threw a baffled look at the Doctor, who held up a hand. He explained to his frightened compan­ion that Jason could change his appearance because he was Alterran. Unlike the robot Kamelion, however, Alterrans were made of flesh and blood and very definitely had a mind of their own.

Being familiar with Kamelion and his inability to assert his will against a more powerful mind, Jason snorted indignantly. "I should hope so."

"Alright, Jason," the Time Lord said sternly, "now that the masquerade is over, what _is_ going on?"

"This is part of it," the King replied, nodding toward the hologram. Typing in a few more com­mands, a second image appeared beside the first. "And so is this."

The Doctor scowled at the new image. "A power station?"

"Not just any power station, Doctor. In a single day, this one is capable of generating enough power to sustain this entire planet for a year."

"It must be huge," Peri gasped.

Shaking his head, Jason replied, "No, that's what's so amazing about it. It gets its energy from the core of the planet."

"A limitless power source," the Doctor observed. "Very impressive."

"What do you need it for?" Peri wanted to know.

"This planet is loaded with mineral deposits that—"

"Aside from the mining operation," the Doctor cut in, "what else is there?"

"This." The Alterran switched on the screen at the end of the table, displaying a series of com­plex mathematical equations that meant absolutely nothing to Peri. The Doctor, however, recognized them instantly and studied intensely. Frowning, he said, "That's not right. That first set of equations is out of sequence. And you're missing—" The Time Lord broke off and turned accusingly to face his old friend. "Do you mean to say you've brought me all the way here to sort out your calculations in inter-dimensional spatial theory?"

Jason met the Doctor's disapproving gaze steadily. "Those aren't my calculations, Doctor. They're from the power station's internal programming," he informed devastatingly.

"What? In the program itself?" the Doctor gasped, turning sharply back to the screen. "That will make the system extremely dan­gerous if it ever gets out of control."

"Exactly what I thought. And until I know who put them there, and exactly what's going on, I'm having the authorization to put the station on-line blocked."

"Good."

The Alterran shook his head. "Not good. I've a terrible feeling whoever programmed all that is also the one responsible for the accidents." He went on to explain how, for no apparent rea­son, a great deal of violent activity had been sweeping the planet.

"Yes," the Doctor injected. "Peri and I came through some of it on the way here." He told his friend of their journey from the satellite and the riot they had passed through.

"That was just a small one, believe it or not," Jason informed sadly. "People are going ber­serk around here. Anything will set them off. And I mean anything."

He went on to tell how he had been asked (unoffi­cially) to look into it and had planted sev­eral agents in certain strategic locations, as well as on each of the Solar Generators. The agents were to report back to his control agent, who just hap­pened to be Bailey. As Chief Technician, he had the freedom to move from the generators to the surface without attracting attention. After Jason was officially assigned to head up the investi­gation, he was able to continue his covert op­eration with Bailey being the only other person to know the identities of the other agents.

"Let me guess," the Doctor interrupted. "Owen Newgate is your agent on Generator 4."

A troubled look came to Jason's face. "Is he _that_ obvious?"

"Well, it's difficult to hide an Alterran in a mob of murderous humans," the Doctor replied reasonably.

"I don't get it?" Peri said in bewilderment. "He was just nice, that's all."

"Only to the untrained eye," the Doctor said almost smugly. "Violence is contrary to every­thing the Alterrans hold dear."

"It's contrary to our very nature," Jason corrected sharply. The Doctor gave him a knowing look, caus­ing him to clear his throat. "Well, with the odd exception or two, I'll admit. I'm not the only contradiction in terms, Doctor."

"Speaking of that," the Doctor said pointedly, "just what are you, an Alterran, doing involved in all this, anyway? This planet isn't anywhere near the Empire."

To Peri's surprise, the now young King blushed vividly before saying, "I…eh, was borrowed, actually. I've gotten a bit of a reputation as being able to sort out all kinds of unusual prob­lems—which is entirely your fault, by the way—and since my—"

A knock at the far door interrupted the conversation and Jason quickly switched off the dis­plays. He waved his hands in a gesture the Doctor understood immediately. He took Peri by the arm, taking up a position in the book corner as the Alterran returned to his guise as the amiable old monarch.

As he was reaching for his cane, Jason noticed a look of amazement and fear on Peri's face and he smiled engagingly, giving her a quick mischievous wink before turning to the door.

"Enter."

Commander Daniels came through the door carrying a thick orange binder. Two servants push­ing carts heaped with covered dishes followed after him.

"Ah, Commander, you've brought us breakfast!" the Alterran King chirped brightly. "Splen­did. Now we can continue this tedious business in a more civilized manner. Especially if you've man­aged to bring me a proper pot of coffee this time. I've yet to have one since I arrived on this culinary challenged planet." Jason turned to the Doctor, who was trying very hard not to let his amusement show. "I ask you. Is it too much to ask to have a simple cup of Columbian style cof­fee in the morning?"

By this time the King's eyes were dancing with delight, and the Time Lord could not resist responding in a serious tone. "I'm sure their doing their best, your Majesty."

The King snorted indignantly, continuing to whine as the servants placed the dishes on the conference table. They gave the Commander a long-suffering look before giving a polite bow and departing.

The door had no sooner closed than the Doctor burst into laughter. His friend turned to face him, smiling broadly. "They all think I'm a Royal basket case who hasn't the slightest idea what's going on," he informed.

"Well, you do it so well," the Doctor shot back smoothly.

Suddenly Jason was all business. "What news, Daniels?"

The officer did not reply, throwing a meaningful glance in the Doctor's direction.

"Commander, the Doctor is here at _my_ request," King Jason said firmly, returning to his younger self as he spoke. "You are to treat him as you would me."

Daniels' steady gaze did not change and the Doctor found the silent giant disquieting to say the least. Throwing an uneasy look in his old friend's direction, he said nervously, "I hope he likes you, Jason."

"Doctor, I trust Daniels with my life," Jason replied, his tone making it quite clear he was not joking.

A ghost of a smile passed across the Commander's face and he inclined his head. "You honor me, my Lord," he said humbly, adding with a sigh, "Which is more than the people of this planet do you."

"Now what?"

"I did as you instructed and informed Mr. Farrell that his escaped prisoners had been located and brought to you." Throwing a quick glance in Peri's direction, he added, "I won't repeat his reply."

"I can imagine. Go on."

Daniels held out the binder. "These are Mr. Anderson's notes on all the incidents that you re­quested." He pulled a computer disk from his pocket. "And this is the extract you requested from the computer on Generator 4. It contains the original program and the altered one."

His curiosity piqued, the Doctor held out a hand. "May I?"

Jason nodded and the documents were surrendered to the Doctor, who immediately set to work on the disk. The monarch watched him pour over everything as Daniels continued his re­port. _He's hooked_, Jason thought relievedly. At the same time, he felt a twinge of guilt. He had been exploiting his knowledge of the Time Lord's personality rather shamefully. Of course, he had asked for his help, but he also knew that all he had to do was arouse his insatiable cu­riosity to be assured of unreserved assistance.


	10. Information

**Chapter Ten**

**Information**

Returning his attention to the Commander, Jason asked, "Is that everything?"

"We also located that crate you asked about," Daniels informed. "It's—"

"I know," the King interrupted, "I found it last night." He dismissed the officer and turned back to the conference table. It was obvious the Doctor would be completely absorbed in his work for some time, so the Alterran turned his attention to the somewhat confused Peri. With a grin, he suggested that they have some breakfast.

After several minutes of casual conversation, Peri hesitantly asked, "Can I…ask you some­thing, your Majesty?"

"Only if you promise to call me Jason when we're alone," he replied calmly. Noting her sur­prised expression, he laughed. "I _hate_ being called by a title. Always have."

"You never seemed to mind Healer," the Doctor observed without looking up.

"I _earned_ that one."

Peri smiled. "Okay, Jason, then."

"What's your question?"

After a brief pause, Peri bluntly asked, "How did the Doctor get his sight back? I'm no doc­tor, but—you'll forgive the pun—I'm not blind, either. I know once the optic nerve is dam­aged, it can't be repaired. Can it?"

This inquiry was enough to pull even the Doctor from his work and he looked up expec­tantly. Seeing this, Jason grinned self-consciously before explaining about a species of fun­gus that was unique to the planet and possessed some very unusual properties. For reasons that were still be­ing researched, the fungus seemed to encourage the healing of nerve endings, and even brain cells in some individuals. It was currently being used experimentally to treat spinal injuries and the victims of head trauma, its highly toxic properties in humans being its major drawback.

"It actually _heals_ brain cells?" Peri said, looking over to the equally amazed Time Lord. "But I thought that was impossible too."

"It is—in humans," King Jason confirmed. "Fortunately the Doctor isn't human, or he never would've tolerated the dose I administered."

"You weren't kidding about it being a dose of poison, were you?" the Time Lord said in a mildly disapproving tone.

Clearing his throat nervously, the Alterran confessed to not being completely honest as to the contents of the cup, either.

"Aha! I knew it!" the Doctor said triumphantly, thumping his fist on the table. "You drugged me, didn't you?"

"I had to, Doctor, and I'm sorry," Jason said apologetically. "It was the only way I could treat you properly. You were in no condition for explanations, and considering the fact you didn't know who I was, I'm glad I didn't try. To be perfectly honest, I didn't want to tell you what I had to do. I still don't."

"That bad, was it?"

"Worse. Remember, I am a surgeon. And if you press, I'll tell you everything in excruciating detail," his friend said firmly, adding, "You won't like it."

The Doctor was stunned by the bluntness of this reply and wondered what atrocious proce­dure he had undergone during his drugged sleep. Whatever it had been, two things were certain; Ja­son's expert ministrations had worked (since there was no doubt his sight had been restored) and press­ing the matter would be unwise. If Jason did not want him to know, it was best to let it go.

"Incase you're wondering, Peri," the Doctor said conversationally, "before the events that caused Jason's rise to power, he was an ordinary physician. What his people call a Healer."

"Ordinary? _Ordinary!_" Jason snorted indignantly. "Just see if I ask you how your hands and face are doing."

The Doctor blinked, having completely forgotten about his burns. He examined his hands a moment, clearly impressed, checking his face in the refection on the table. It was as though he had never been injured. "Artificial skin?" he said at last.

"Just one of the many mundane skills of an ordinary Healer," the Alterran replied airily.

The Doctor ignored the remark and continued to address his companion in the same bland tone. "One of Jason's other side lines is chemistry. He's quite good at it, too. Although I do seem to recall his blowing up one of my laboratories once."

Jason gave an indignant snort, waving his hand dismissively. "Ignore him. He's just trying to annoy me because I drugged him."

"And…" the Time Lord went on baitingly, "I also seem to recall he had a minor interest in herbicides or some such thing."

Peri giggled. She was not sure if this friendly banter was for her benefit, but at least it con­firmed to her that the shape shifting Alterran did indeed have a mind of his own.

Jason had heard quite enough. "What the Doctor is _trying_ to say is I'm an herbalist. That means I have more than a passing knowledge of the curative properties of plants. I special­ized in it while I was in private practice."

"Really?" Peri said delightedly. "I'm majoring in botany myself." She then went on to ask if he could tell her more about the fungus he had mentioned.

The Doctor smiled as the two got into a lively conversation concerning the origins of the plant and others like it, which was exactly what he had been aiming for all along. If his friends were en­gaged in a topic of mutual interest, they would not be pestering him with a lot of irritat­ing ques­tions.

The Time Lord's work was temporarily halted when he tried to access the Power Station's main program and was denied entry. He tried several different times to by pass security without success. "I seem to've hit a very sophisticated firewall," he informed.

Seeing what he meant, Jason flashed a broad smile. "You mean there's actually a security program you can't breach?" he chided.

"I'm sure given time I could get in, but you did say the matter was urgent."

His friend just grinned all the more before informing him that it was he who had programmed the security screen, utilizing the techniques the Time Lord himself had taught him. He provided the Doctor with all of his clearance codes, thus giving him unlimited access to the planet's entire com­puter network.

A buzzer sounded from across the room and Farrell's image appeared on the communication screen. Jason's face suddenly darkened and he sighed heavily before going over to it. "Yes, Mr. Farrell, may I help you?" he said urbanely.

"I've just had an interesting meeting with your Commander Daniels," the Inquisitor said in a voice that contained all the loathing he held for his foreign overseers. "I'm coming over."

"Certainly. I'm sure I can arrange—"

"Don't waste my time, Krystovan," the man on the screen snapped. "I haven't got all day to waste waiting for that batty King of yours to deign me with his presence."

A placating smile came to the young man's face. "Of course. I understand completely. If I can't persuade his Majesty to see you, I'll see you myself in the throne room." The screen went blank and Jason's face darkened even further.

"Lord Krystovan rides again, I see," the Doctor remarked amusedly. "Is he the secretary to our potty old King?"

"As it appears to all, Lord Krystovan does all the work, while King Jason gets all the credit," the Alterran explained. "It's funny. People will tell a harmless, if slightly batty old man a lot more than they'll tell his workaholic aide."

Peri was baffled. "If you can do all that, why do you need André the Giant?"

Jason gave her a blank look. "André the what?"

The Doctor grinned before translating. "She means Commander Daniels."

"Oh!" The King laughed. "Aside from the fact that he's saved my skin on more than one occa­sion, he adds credence to the illusion that my batty old monarch needs a keeper."

"How on earth do you keep it all straight?" Peri wanted to know. "How do you remember it all?"

"Oh, it gets easier after the first half century or so."

The Doctor grunted. "I'm sure having total recall doesn't hurt, either."

King Jason flashed a broad smile. "In the beginning, the hardest part was making sure my chil­dren knew which one of us to call Daddy."

"Your children!" the Doctor gasped, his eyes wide. The last time he had seen his Alterran friend, he had only just become engaged to be married. Or was he only just married? The Doctor could not quite recall and made a mental note to see just how far forward he had jumped in Jason's timeline.

Amused by this reaction, the monarch smiled broadly. "My eldest son has been here nearly a year working on his thesis. He's taken an interest in solar energy and related fields and came to study the solar generators as 'just another student with an aristocratic background.' We tried to keep it that way, but someone let it leak that he was Crown Prince shortly after I arrived."

"Crown Prince?" the Doctor echoed. "Your heir, I take it?"

"Yes," the monarch said darkly. "And if you're lucky, you won't have to meet him." Realiz­ing the implications to his offhand remark, Jason pulled himself together, smiled weakly, and vanished into the next room.

Seeing the stunned look on the Time Lord's face, Peri said, "He wasn't kidding, was he?"


	11. The Brash Young Man

**Chapter Eleven**

**The Brash Young Man**

Peri watched the Doctor work for a few minutes before getting bored. He was scowl­ing over his work, making entry after entry into the computer. From time to time a non-com­municative grunt would escape him when the holographic image suspended above the table changed.

Peri sighed heavily and wandered aimlessly around the room. She studied the contents of the jars, looked at the books on the shelves, which turned out to be written in a language she could not comprehend. She sauntered over to the French doors and looked out into the courtyard. The Doctor admonished her from venturing out, as there was no telling if any of Farrell's men were about. Eventually she returned to her chair and leaned back, perching her feet on a stool. She was in the process of dozing off when a strikingly handsome young man came into the room by way of the King's private entrance. He was dressed in an exquisite suit of clothes and wore an orna­mental collar around his neck. While the latter meant nothing to Peri, it told the Doctor the youth was a member of the nobility and he immediately rose to his feet, casually switching off the holograph as he did so. The young man's response was not what he expected.

"How did you get in here? No one may enter the King's rooms without escort." The new­comer came forward a few steps only to stop and look the Time Lord up and down. "You're the prisoner who escaped last night!" he gasped. "The saboteur from the solar generator!"

By this time Peri was also on her feet. "No, you've got it all wrong," she said, trying to ex­plain. "We were—"

"Silence, female!" the brash young man commanded. "I was not addressing you. And when I do, you will address me as sir, or your Royal Highness."

This verbal slap in the face did nothing to endear the surly youth to the Doctor, who had al­ready taken an immediate dislike to him. "You're a member of the elite aristocracy, aren't you, your Royal Highness?" he asked mildly.

"Naturally," the nobleman sniffed, puffing out his chest. "It shows, of course."

"Of course," the Time Lord agreed amiably, his voice hardening as he went on to say, "Your lack of tact and good manners would make you stand out in any crowd."

The Doctor's affront took the aristocrat completely off guard. "How dare you! I'll have you know I'm a member of the Alterran Imperial court."

Not usually one to throw his rank into another's face, the Doctor felt the occasion veritably screamed for an exception. "So am I," he replied devastatingly. "But you're a human inductee, aren't you? No Alterran of my acquaintance could ever be as appallingly arrogant and abrasive as you are—_sir_."

"You are insolent!"

To the Doctor's astonishment, he realized the ill-mannered youth actually meant to strike him and he took an alarmed step back. Should this ruffian actually turn out to be Alterran, he would possess a strength several times that of the Doctor himself and be capable of inflicting some very serious injuries.

From out of nowhere, an authoritative voice suddenly thundered, "Juris!"

The youth spun around to see an enraged King Jason standing in the doorway, still in his guise as the old man. His eyes, however, were not the kindly ones Peri had looked into the night before. They were blazing with an anger the Doctor knew only too well. "Do my eyes deceive me?" he hissed angrily. "Or is it possible that you're actually preparing to strike a guest in my own rooms?"

"I can explain—"

"_Explain!_" Jason roared, his rage and disgust written clearly across his no longer gentle face. "This is unconscionable! You're an Alterran of the Royal Bloodline. What possible explanation could there be for lowering yourself to the level of barbarians?"

"This man is an escaped prisoner!"

"_This man is the Doctor_," the King informed coldly. It was clear from his tone that this should mean something to the ill-mannered Juris, who responded with a disinterested shrug, in­furiating Jason all the more. "Get out! Just get out before I _really_ lose my temper!"

The aristocrat stood glaring at the monarch a moment before striding from the room with as much bravado as he could muster. Jason glared after him, closing his eyes and clenching his fists in frustration once the arrogant youth had gone. "I did not need this today," he complained under his breath. He turned back to his guests, obviously embarrassed by the scene they had just wit­nessed.

"Who was that unsavory young man?" the Doctor inquired, having been greatly relieved by his friend's timely intervention. "A member of your acting troupe or just a rogue stray from your entourage?"

"Neither." A pained look came to the monarch's face as he replied, "I'm almost ashamed to admit this, Doctor, but—that was my son."

The stunned silence that followed only added to the shame Jason felt for having produced so vile a creature. While at the same time, he loathed himself for feeling this way about the son he still loved very dearly.

"I wish I'd never agreed to let him come to this God-forsaken planet," the Alterran con­fessed. "You'd never know it now, but he used to be a gentle and loving person. Now he's noth­ing but an arrogant, selfish, spoiled brat unworthy of his heritage and birthright."

"Jason…" the Doctor began gently.

The King tried to shake the angry thoughts from his mind, waving a hand in the air. "Never mind, Doctor. You're here to help me sort out this problem with the accidents, not my personal life."

"I'm not entirely convinced the two are unrelated," the Time Lord informed soberly. "Don't you find it just the tiniest bit odd that an Alterran, of all people, should be assimilating the same tendency toward extreme violence that's sweeping this planet?"

Jason met his gaze steadily. "You think it's an alien influence, don't you?"

"Well, don't _you?"_ his friend replied pointedly. "Surely you suspected it before now?"

The King nodded slowly. "I was rather hoping I was wrong." Pausing, he added hauntingly, "You feel it too, don't you? A malignant evil spreading like a cancer, killing all that it touches." He shuddered and hugged himself as a chill ran down his spine.

The Doctor's eyes widened. "Why didn't you tell me you suspected this from the begin­ning?"

"I didn't want to influence you." Jason shook his head and immediately corrected himself. "No, that's a lie. The truth is I was afraid I was imagining things." He shuddered again. "Any­way, it doesn't seem to matter now."

The Doctor nodded understandingly. If what he suspected proved true, then the son of one of his closest friends was in very serious danger. Keeping this thought to himself, he decided to change the subject. "What did Farrell want, by the way?"

"I don't think even _I_ can remember it all," Jason joked feebly. "He wanted to protest in the strongest terms my having usurped his authority by taking charge of both of you without going through the usual channels." As an afterthought, he added, "He still claims you're the cause of it all, by the way."

"What a surprise," Peri injected dryly.

"He believes, with the two of you in custody, I should consider the investigation nearly com­plete and—"

"_And_," the Doctor broke in sharply, "he wants Lord Krystovan to wrangle getting the power plant brought on line."

The monarch blinked. "How on earth did you know that?"

Instead of beaming with pride, the Doctor's face became grave. "Take a look at this." He made a quick entry on the computer, the hologram of the planet appearing over the table again. "I've been analyzing everything Bailey put together. Did you know that all those little accidents of yours have been slowly altering the orbits of the solar generators? They've actually moved from a previously fixed geo-stationary orbit to a slightly higher and more northerly position, which just happens to be where the new power station is located."

A point of light began pulsating on the hologram to indicate the position of the power plant.

"Okay, I'll bite," Peri injected from her place across the room. "Why were they moved?"

Looking like a professor giving a lecture to a class of eager students, the Doctor held up a finger. "What would happen," he asked tantalizingly, "if all the generators were linked together and their combined energies focused on one specific point in space?"

The image changed again. A beam of light stretched from one satellite to the next until they formed a ring like a beaded necklace around the planet. The light from each generator was then beamed out into space where they joined to form a cone directly above the pulsing dot on the planet's surface.

Jason struggled to grasp the significance of it all, but failed to see what his friend was getting at. "Alright, Doctor, I admit it. I'm lost."

"Try adding inter-dimensional spatial theory into the equation," the Doctor said helpfully. "After all, that's what's been programmed, however incorrectly, into the computer in the power plant."

The Alterran caught his breath, his eyes growing wide. The Time Lord confirmed his fears when he touched a final key and the hologram changed to form its final image. A solid beam of energy moved up from the power plant, intersecting the point of the cone. The instant all energy points touched, a swirling vortex opened in space above the cone.

"Violà!" the Doctor announced triumphantly. "The entrance to another dimension."


	12. Betrayal

**Chapter Twelve**

**Betrayal**

Peri was now at the conference table scrutinizing the image in wonder. "Another dimension? Leading where?"

"Ah, well…I'm afraid you've got me there," the Doctor admitted guiltily. "I might be able to tell you, if I could run the data through the TARDIS's computer." Turning to his old friend, he said, "I don't suppose it's possible to have her brought to closer quarters, is it?"

Jason flashed a knowing smile. "The TARDIS is closer than you think, Doctor. I took the lib­erty—or more accurately, Lord Krystovan took the liberty—of having it brought down from Generator 4. It's in the throne room not ten metres away."

The Doctor could not have been more delighted. "I must remember to thank his Lordship the next time I see him," he quipped.

* * *

Jason took advantage of the brief interlude to rest while the Doctor was busy verifying his find­ings. While playing a duel role appealed to the Alterran's flamboyant, if ofttimes overly dra­matic nature, it was also very exhausting. He was grateful for any opportunity when he could let his guard down. Since it was the time of day that the old King usually took a nap, Jason had re­turned to his guise of the younger Lord Krystovan and was lounging in an easy chair chatting with Peri when Farrell and a contingent of armed guards suddenly burst into the room.

The Alterran was on his feet in a second. "What is the meaning of this?" he demanded.

"You're under arrest," Farrell announced blandly.

"What!" Jason was incredulous. "On what charge?"

"Conspiracy, treason, and murder. To name a few."

"What? Don't be an idiot, Farrell." Any further protests Jason might have made were cut off by an energy blast that dropped him like a stone. Peri wanted to scream but could not make a sound.

"Don't try anything foolish, girl. You won't survive a shot from this, even on the stun set­ting," Farrell hissed threaten­ingly, indicating the Alterran weapon that had been used to subdue the King. Looking around the room, he suddenly realized the Doctor was not present. "Where's the Doctor?" he demanded, grabbing Peri by the arm.

"You're hurting me!" she protested, fighting against the painfully tight grip.

"I haven't begun hurting you, girl. Now, where is he?"

"He's in the TARDIS!" Peri cried. She succeeded in pulling her arm free at the same time and took a step back.

It was obvious to Farrell that Peri was telling the truth, but he had absolutely no idea what she meant. Unwilling to admit his ignorance, however, he made no reply, ordering a thorough search of the King's rooms. He then took his prisoners to the old prison area.

Peri was locked in a damp stone cell while the unconscious Jason was carried off in another direction. After pounding on the door for several minutes without success, Peri sat down on the only piece of furniture in the room, this being a cot that felt more like a padded table. It was there that she waited. And waited…

* * *

In the TARDIS console room, the Doctor had finished checking the results of his findings but had yet to return to inform his friend of the results. The computer's response deeply concerned him and for what seemed the hundredth time he ran his data through the system, inwardly hoping against logic that the results would be dif­ferent. He had suspected a sinister reason behind a por­tal to another dimension being opened, but not the one the computer supplied. He eventually asked for information on the planet's history, hoping it would not be as disconcerting as the in­formation about the portal.

The computer gave a loud beep, the information flashing up on the screen. The Doctor read the file, his face darkening as he did soThe more he learned of the planet's history, the more sinister the current events became, and the more dangerous for those involved. _How am I go­ing to break this to Jason?_

* * *

The Doctor's findings were the least of Jason's worries. He regained consciousness to find him­self strapped to a couch with a strange assortment of electronic hardware attached to his head. He heaved a resigned sigh, recognizing the device as a mind probe. He looked around fuzzily, his eyes falling on what looked a shadow box with a beam of blue light dancing across its opening. He tensed upon seeing it, as it meant escape was currently impossible.

"Yes, it's a barrier generator," Farrell confirmed as he stepped into the Alterran's limited line of vision. "How else could we keep you prisoner?"

"How else indeed?" Jason muttered darkly. As long as the tiny device was operating, he would be unable to escape his bonds either by transmuting or by simply snapping them, his strength having been diminished to human levels. "Alright, Farrell, now that you've got me here, what do you want?" he demanded.

"Knowledge," the Inquisitor purred mysteriously. "A very special kind of knowledge. Inter-dimensional spatial theory."

"What?" Jason breathed unbelievingly. "But I don't—"

"You can stop pretending, _your Majesty_, I know who you are," Farrell announced devastat­ingly. "Your masquerade was ingenious, but not entirely foolproof."

Jason followed his captor's gaze, seeing, to his horror, his own son standing stone-like in the far corner. "Juris…" he whispered, closing his eyes in abject sorrow. For a single frozen mo­ment, he did not know which hurt him more, the loss of his son to the likes of Farrell, or his own son's betrayal. By being a party to this treasonous act Prince Juris had condemned himself to, at best, banishment, at worse, death.

* * *

Trapped in his energy prison on the other side of the spatial rift, the real Prince Juris was just as helpless as the King. He watched the entire distressing scene, his suffering increasing by the mo­ment. Seeing the pained look on his father's face, a small moan of anguish escaped him. He knew exactly what he was thinking and could feel the pain of his betrayal.

Since his father's arrival, Juris had watched as Jason tried to come to terms with the fact that his son had apparently abandoned all his people's values. Now he was forced to watch as his fa­ther was betrayed and handed over to his enemies—seemingly, at his own hand.

* * *

Farrell ordered the mind probe activated and his prisoner caught his breath as the device stabbed at his brain. "Inter-dimensional spatial theory, your Majesty," he repeated. "Your son hasn't the complete knowledge, but I believe you do."

"My…" King Jason was horrified. "You put _my son_ on this accursed machine!" Farrell laughed at this reaction and the volatile Alterran felt his rage swelling like a tidal wave and struggled against his bonds. "I'll kill you if I ever get out of this thing, Farrell! I swear I'll kill you!"

"The only way out is to give me the information I need. You know the drill. Just think the equations, and the machine will do the rest."

"What do you want them for?" the King demanded. Unfortunately, his anger had made him care­less and his own thoughts betrayed him. The image of the Doctor's holographic simulation re­played itself on the monitor.

"Yes…" Farrell breathed maniacally. "Give it to me. Ormril awaits his return."

"Ormril?" The name left Jason momentarily stunned. "Now I know you're insane," he said at last, wincing as the power surging through his brain increased. "He'll destroy every living thing on this planet, including you."

"No. He promises to share his power."

"The only share you'll get is the one that kills you."

The Inquisitor snorted indignantly and waved a hand at the mind probe operator. "Increase the power. I want every scrape of information in his mind on inter-dimensional theory." Turn­ing to his prisoner, he added coldly, "And don't bother telling me you don't remember any of it, ei­ther, because I also know you have total recall."

Jason winced as the device stabbed into his brain with greater force. "Maybe so," he said in a strained voice, "but just remember, total recall does not guarantee total understanding." So say­ing, he closed his eyes and concentrated with all his strength to clear his mind. A small smile came to his face as his mind, and then the monitor screen, went blank.

Farrell cursed under his breath. "Full power!"

"But, sir, that'll kill him," the operator protested.

"I said full power!"

As the order was obeyed, Farrell watched in sadistic delight as the Alterran's body started to twitch as he strained to fight back. The hum of power grew and Jason's face twisted in pain. As the operator announced they had reached full power, the Alterran started to writhe in torment, straining against his bonds as the powerful device clawed at his mind. After what seemed an eternity, a wail that was a combination of agony and frustration was torn from Jason's throat as numerous equations began flashing across the screen.

"Now we're getting somewhere," Farrell muttered, exchanging a look of satisfaction with the false Prince Juris.

The real Prince Juris, on the other hand, had an entirely different reaction.

"Turn it off! Turn it off! I can't stand it anymore," he screamed in anguish. "Asta, please, turn it off!"

Asta was puzzled and intrigued by his reaction. "This is as we planned—"

"No! It's as _you_ planned," the captive Prince shouted. "You and that horrible Master of yours. Death and destruction, that's all you know!"

Another scream of agony came through the viewer and the trapped Juris moaned in torment. The energies generated in the mind probe room tore through him like a jagged knife, increasing the paralyzing effects of the energy field to the point where he was unable to move, making it impossible for him to turn away or cover his ears against his father's tortured screams.

"You generate such strong emotions, Juris. Explain them. I must understand," Asta said in so clinical a tone that it enraged the young man all the more.

"Understand! What's to understand? You're torturing my father to death!" Juris shouted. "I hate it! Can't you feel that? Isn't it violent enough for you? I hate it and I hate you. You and that abominable Master of yours."

"Your emotions were not violent until now," came the reply in the same clinical tone. "They were different. You suffer with him. I don't understand how this is possible."

Juris was incredulous. "What are you talking about? He's my father!"

At that moment the scene of torment ended as Jason went limp in his bonds, the mind probe screen going blank at the same time. The paralysis vanished the same instant, releasing the trem­bling Juris who fell to his knees and covered his face with his hands. Sobs of grief shook his body, tears staining his face.

"Your answer is not adequate," the entity stated blandly, oblivious to its captive's intense grief. "I have absorbed many fathers and sons who sought to destroy one another to gain my Master's fa­vor."

Juris looked up sharply, a murderous look on his face. "You'll _never_ understand!" he hissed bitterly, his voice shaking with emotion. "You'll never understand, because you have no concep­tion of what it means to love someone."

The view screen suddenly went blank and to the Prince's astonishment his captor calmly said, "Then you will explain it to me."


	13. I Think He's Dead

**Chapter Thirteen**

"**I Think He's Dead."**

Juris' mouth dropped open and he stared at his captor. "What?" he gasped, not quite able to take in the extraordinary re­quest.

"You will explain this emotion called love to me. It is very powerful and my function is to utilize the energies created by such powerful emotions. I cannot use what I don't understand. You must teach me."

Wiping the tears from his face with a trembling hand, the captive Prince looked at the cloud, seeing it change in size as it did when it was thinking. "Are…you serious?" he asked hesitantly, still unable to grasp the significance of the request.

The cloud darkened and moved slightly closer in an obvious threat. "You have agreed to an­swer all inquires if I do not—"

The youth threw up his hands and shrank back. "I know, I know," he said quickly. "I…I just …I need to _think_." Taking a deep breath, he tried to regain his composure. "This… It isn't… well, it's not the kind of thing you usually ask me. You need to give me time to…to get my thoughts to­gether. Surely you understand that, don't you?"

"This is acceptable," Asta replied blandly.

Greatly relieved, Juris took another deep breath, shakily wiping away stray tears and wonder­ing where he should start. It was not just the basic emotion of love Asta needed to understand, but its many facets, which Juris felt gave the emotion its power. Friendship, affection, admira­tion, tolerance, and what he considered the cornerstone, mutual trust.

"This could take some time," the Prince said finally.

"I have suspended time," Asta announced startlingly. "What you call hours will pass as min­utes in the world across the rift."

"I see," came the dubious reply.

"Now. You will explain love to me."

* * *

The Doctor had taken his time before returning to King Jason's chambers. He was not sure what, precisely, he was going to tell his friend about his findings. As it turned out, it did not matter. The mo­ment he entered the room he was arrested and dragged to the dungeon area where he was roughly thrust into the cell with his companion.

Although distressed that the Doctor had been arrested, Peri was inwardly delighted to see him. She had heard the tortured screams echoing through the halls and hoped that instead of be­ing real, they were recordings designed to unnerve her, which they had done very effectively. She had come to this questionable conclusion because the sound had stopped only minutes be­fore the Doctor arrived.

The Time Lord made no remark on this theory, choosing instead to sit on the cot and brood.

After several silent minutes, Peri hesitantly said, "Doctor, do you remember what Jason said about his son? About how he'd changed?"

"Ye-es," the Doctor prompted. "What about it?"

"Well…it's just…" Lowering her eyes, Peri said, "I saw him with the people who brought me here."

The Doctor's reaction was not what she expected. He sprang to his feet and grabbed her by the shoulders, causing her to cry out in alarm. "Peri, are you sure?" he demanded. "Are you ab­solutely sure?"

"Yes!" she exclaimed, pushing him away. "He's hard to miss with Fort Knox around his neck."

The Doctor drew a deep breath and closed his eyes. "Then it's as I feared," he said darkly. Before his companion could ask him what he was talking about, his suspicions were confirmed when the cell door was thrown open and King Jason's limp form was unceremoniously dumped onto the hard stone floor. Peri was at his side immediately, but the Doctor did not move. He stood with his eyes locked with those of the arrogant Prince Juris who stood in the open door­way.

"Why?" the Time Lord demanded pointedly.

"It is the will of Ormril," came the unrepentant reply before the door was slammed shut.

"I was afraid of that," the Doctor remarked, returning to reality with a jolt when his compan­ion said shakily, "Doctor, I…I think he's dead." He was at the motionless Alterran's prostrate form in­stantly, and carefully turned him onto his back. He checked for any signs of life and found a weak pulse. He breathed a sigh of relief before gently lifting the limp form from the cold floor and placing him on the cot.

"Peri, bring that light over here," the Doctor ordered. He pulled out a handkerchief and wiped the dirt from the unconscious monarch's face before giving his hairline a closer look.

"Doctor, what did they do to him?" Peri asked quietly.

"Judging from the bruising on his scalp, I'd say they used some form of mind probe on him." Looking up, the Doctor informed softly, "His mind is gone."

"Mind probe? That's that?"

"It's a device used to extract the truth. Only this one probably comes from a technological dark age."

"Extract the truth? You mean…like a lie detector?"

"When used correctly, yes." The Doctor's face clouded over with rage as he looked down at the pallid and haggard face of his friend. "But when used improperly, it's an abomination. Re­sist too long and your brain turns to jelly."

Peri shuddered, looking down at the once bright and animated face of the young Lord Kry­stovan. "Is he going to die?"

"Yes, I'm afraid he is."

Peri shook her head in disbelief. "His own son," she said in a horrified whisper. "How could his own son do this to him?"

"Ormril," the Doctor responded cryptically as he rose to his feet. "Under his influence, even a once gentle Alterran can turn violent. Farrell must be stopped."

"Farrell? But you just said—" Peri was cut off when more guards appeared, dragging the Doc­tor away and leaving her pounding on the door once again. The only thing her hammering fists brought was a cascade of crumbling stonework, most of which had been jarred loose earlier. The dust got caught in her throat and Peri kicked angrily at the chunks of stone as she went to the cask of water across the room and got a drink. She noticed that one of the lumps of rock at her feet had some of the strange colorful fungus on it that Jason had been so excited about. Upon closer scrutiny, she found several of the stones in the wall had the same shell-like growth on them. She pulled off a few pieces and went back to the motionless figure on the bed, sitting down beside him.

"I…found some of that rainbow fungus you were telling me about," she began conversation­ally. "It's funny. I thought it'd be soft, but it's as hard as a rock."

Not knowing what else to do, Peri continued to talk to the dying Alterran. "I'll bet you'd know what to do for yourself, wouldn't you, Healer? You'd probably—" Catching her breath, she looked at the lumps in her hands. "You'd use this!"

Looking around the room, the former botany student found a flat-sided stone and proceeded to pulverize the fungus with it. With this done, she wondered how to administer it. She touched some of the powder to her tongue and winced. It was extremely bitter. She'd never get it into him that way. Maybe she could dilute it. Getting a cup of water, she mixed in a handful of the pow­der. "I hope this isn't too much," she muttered as she went back to the bed.

By this time Jason was pale as death itself, his lips having taken on a bluish cast and at first Peri thought she might already be too late. To her relief she found a weak pulse that confirmed the monarch was still alive. Barely. But for how long?

Mentally crossing her fingers, Peri decided to go for broke. Taking the handkerchief the Doc­tor had used earlier, she soaked it in the solution and wiped Jason's face, laying the cloth on his forehead in the hopes the mixture would be absorbed into his skin. Then, using her fin­gertip, she began meticulously placing the solution on Jason's lips, one drop at a time.

* * *

The Doctor was roughly dragged into the mind probe room where he was forced onto the couch and strapped down. "Wasn't it enough for you to kill King Jason on this thing, Farrell?" he hissed bitterly as the elaborate headgear was brought into place.

Farrell waved a hand in the air. "He needn't've suffered at all had he freely given me what I wanted."

"So you can release a force that will destroy this planet and hundreds like it?" the Doctor re­torted sharply. "No, I don't think so."

"Like the King, Doctor, you're an alarmist. Ormril's power; his wondrous creation…needs _my_ help to be brought forth."

"His creation of evil, you mean," the Doctor countered. "It's not real. It's just an extension of his own twisted mind. It has no substance. No conscience. No mind of its own. It's a thing. A thing that will destroy you, just as it's destroyed the hundreds of other fools who thought they could control it."

"No, Doctor," Farrell hissed in reply. "I shall succeed where others have failed. I'll win over the creature and possess it myself."

"Farrell, you idiot, it's not alive!"

The eyes of the Inquisitor were now blazing with the madness that had overtaken him. "If you don't give me what I want, Doctor," he said threateningly, "you won't be alive, either."


	14. A Small Miracle

**Chapter Fourteen**

**A Small Miracle**

In the room of swirling colors on the other side of the dimensional fissure, a more controlled Juris watched as the scene in the mind probe room played out before him. He had spent several hours explaining the emotion of love to his captor, having tried to cover as much as he could. From time to time his own emotions would get the better of him and he had to stop to regain his composure. This only served to intrigue the entity all the more and it inquired as to the reasons behind each emotion he experienced as he fought to control his grief. When at last he finished, he was doubtful Asta was capable of grasping any of what he had been trying to impart, but felt he had done the best he could.

Once the Prince finished his explanation, more than half an hour past as the entity assimi­lated everything. It asked a number of secondary questions that the youth found intriguing and at­tempted to answer as thoroughly as before. After a second pause, the entity announced that it was satisfied with the explanation and reactivated the view screen. To Juris' amazement he found that, just as Asta had said, only a few minutes had passed on the planet's surface. He watched as the Doctor was brought into the mind probe room, being inwardly grate­ful for his lengthy if un­natural interlude. At least it had given him the opportu­nity to recover, however slightly, from the shock of witnessing his father's brutal murder.

The eerie silence was broken as Asta said almost sadly, "The Doctor speaks the truth. With­out my Master, I don't exist."

Juris looked up sharply as an extraordinary thought struck him, and he wondered somewhat hysterically if he were going mad. "No, he's wrong," he breathed, shaking his head. "You_ are_ real."

"Explain your meaning."

Not even realizing he had spoken, Juris was startled from his deep thoughts. "What?"

"You say the Doctor is wrong. Why?"

The Prince looked from the entity to the view screen and back. "Because…I think…you may be real after all."

"Your words are meaningless. I have always been real."

"No, I mean _real_, as in a real person. A living, sentient being, not a thing."

"I am the creation of Ormril," the entity said flatly.

"I could just as easily say I'm a creation of my parents," Juris countered sharply. "But I'm not a thing, I'm a person. I have awareness. I have—" Pausing, he sighed heavily, searching for the right words. "There's a saying, _I think, therefore I am_. And…well, you seem to do an awful lot of thinking lately."

As if to verify this, the cloud of smoke changed in size several times as the entity took in this fascinating con­cept. After what seemed an eternity, it said, "I must consider your words," and returned its at­tention to the viewer where Farrell was still arguing with the Doctor.

"You know nothing, Doctor!" he spat.

"Farrell, are you blind? Can't you see the evil influence at work here? It's sweeping this planet like a cancer. It's taken a boy from a race of beings repulsed by violence and turned him into a cold-blooded creature who'd stand by and watch the murder of his own father—the one person on this entire planet who loved him despite his obviously twisted nature."

("This emotion called love has many facets," Asta observed, only to be shushed by the cap­tive Juris. "Quiet, I'm trying to listen.")

The connections to the Time Lord's head had been completed during this altercation and the Probe operator was at his place at the controls awaiting orders.

"Stop now, Farrell," the Doctor insisted. "Now, while there's still time."

The Inquisitor responded with a laugh of pure sadistic delight. "Your time is up, Doctor," he announced and gave the word to commence.

The Doctor braced himself, knowing that, barring a miracle, the only way he would leave the room was in the same manner as Jason.

* * *

In her cell, Peri was in high hopes a miracle might actually be occurring. She was still patiently dabbing drop after drop on the lips of the unconscious Alterran, and thought she saw some color returning to his face. She took the cloth and wiped his face again, only to scowl. In the dim light it was hard to tell anything. It might very well be a shadow.

After another minute, Peri could not deny that something was happening when she felt Jason's lips move against her finger. After a few more drops, they moved again. Then his eye­lids fluttered slightly open to reveal dull, unseeing eyes. Encouraged by this sign of progress Peri continued to administer the solution, letting out an involuntary cry when Jason seemed to stir weakly.

Peri lifted the Alterran's head and put the cup to his lips. "Come on, Jason," she encouraged. "Just one little sip. That's it. Come on, one more."

Each little sip revived the Alterran more and more until he returned to partial consciousness. Then his reactions became even more pronounced. The next sip caused him to wince; the one after that, to cough, and what turned out to be his last brought him completely to his senses.

"What're you trying to do? Poison me?" Jason asked indignantly as he pushed the offending liquid away. He sat up slowly, a hand to his aching head. Finding the cloth at his forehead, he placed it over his eyes, leaning forward in obvious pain.

"I hope not," Peri replied sheepishly. "I wasn't sure how much of this stuff I should use."

Despite the fact that his head felt like it had been blown into pieces and then put back to­gether with a sledge hammer, Jason remembered enough of his ordeal to realize he should not be alive and looked at the young woman beside him. "What stuff?" She told him what she had done, and Jason sat marveling at her.

"Peri, do you have any idea what you've just done?" he said at last.

"No," came the timid reply.

"You've just saved my life. That's what you've just done." Taking the face of the astonished Earth woman in his hands, the Alterran planted a kiss on her mouth before he realized what he was doing. "Thank-you. Thank you very much," he said gratefully.

After a momentary silence, Jason slowly got to his feet. He knew what he had to do, but had absolutely no idea how to go about doing it. "I've got to stop Farrell before he releases Ormril," he muttered. "But how? How?"

"Look, just who is this Ormril character anyway?" Peri asked pointedly. "The Doctor never did get the chance to—"

"The Doctor!" Jason whirled around to face her. "Farrell has the Doctor, too?"

"Yes. They got him while you were—"

"Great. This is just great," the monarch moaned. Seeing the puzzled look on Peri's face, he explained about Ormril's history. How he had been able to create a magnified distortion of his own personality; a separate entity from himself that he could direct mentally. It was designed to take a person's negative emotions and turn them against them, ultimately defeating them.

"But Ormril wasn't happy just defeating an enemy," Jason said in disgust. "He wanted total annihilation. Once an enemy was defeated, he had his entity consume them."

"Consume?" Peri said in distaste. "You mean…it ate them?"

"Not physically, no. It sucked what you might call the life force out of them." Jason paused to allow Peri time to take this in before going on, telling of how Ormril's people had attempted to stop him, only to be completely annihilated themselves. Ormril went on to leave wasteland after wasteland until he was finally stopped and banished in to the alternate dimension from which he was now trying to escape.

"How? If everybody that tried to stop him was killed, who put him there?" Peri wanted to know.

The Alterran gave her a wry smile. "The Time Lord's. In one of their rare instances of inter­vention, they agreed to step in and do something for once."

"How? If this creature of his can use emotions as a weapon?"

Jason smiled, knowing she was basing her question on the Doctor, who was anything but a typical Time Lord. "Their minds are too well trained. Ormril couldn't twist or control them, and without the emotions of hate or fear to feed on, his was powerless to prevent himself from being trapped."

By this time Peri was beginning to wish she had not asked.

"There must be a dimensional fissure somewhere very close," Jason muttered thoughtfully. "Ormril's probably using it to influence—" He broke off as a horrifying thought struck him. Up until that moment his reasoning had been running parallel to the Doctor's, but his final conclu­sion was completely different. "Juris!" he gasped. "My Lord, Peri, he's using my son!"

"I know. The Doctor said Farrell—"

"No, not Farrell, _Ormril._ It's just like before." Seeing the blank look on Peri's face, Jason apolo­gized, explaining that Ormril had tried a daring escape attempt once before. Utilizing a di­mensional fissure he had established a link with two people on the nearest planet. They be­came his main operators; the first acting as a catalyst, stirring up trouble: while the second, a telepath, acted as the pathway through which all mental energies created by the violence were drawn off. The story paralleled the current state of affairs save for one detail. There had not been sufficient power available on the planet to open a portal in the dimensional fissure.

"And that's why the new power plant has inter-dimensional spatial equations in its program­ming," Peri concluded, grinning at the astonished look she received in reply. "You see? I have been paying attention."

Jason nodded absently, his mind racing. "If Juris is anything like—" Interrupting himself, he said firmly, "He _has_ to be telepathic. It's the only explanation. He'd be the perfect pathway." In a strained voice, he said, "Peri, at all costs, we must close that pathway."


	15. Probing The Mind

**Chapter Fifteen**

**Probing The Mind**

The Doctor was already doing his part to thwart Farrell's plans, having obligingly given him sev­eral theories on inter-dimensional spatial theory. All of which proved unequivocally that it was a theoretical impossibility.

While this did not amuse the Chief Inquisitor, it delighted the real Prince Juris. "They'll never get anything out of him that way," he observed.

"My Master does not understand why the Doctor was required. He believes him to be a fool," Asta informed.

"A fool?" Juris snorted. "Don't be ridiculous. He's a Time Lord."

"How do you know this?"

"Well, if your Master had bothered to ask my father before he murdered him," came the embit­tered reply, "he would've seen they used to travel together. That's how my father learned the theory in the first place."

The reaction to this revelation went unnoticed by the captive Juris who was too intent on watching the events unfolding in the mind probe room.

After a brief telepathic conversation with its Master, the cloud grew darker than ever before. "You will tell me of him."

Still unaware anything was amiss, Juris said airily, "I can't, really. I've never—"

"You will give me everything in your mind concerning this Time Lord," the entity com­manded, its voice suddenly deep and metallic.

This quite naturally startled the unsuspecting youth and he turned sharply, stiffening visibly when he saw his captor moving ominously close. "But…I…I've never met him. I only know what my—" Juris broke off as the creature loomed over him and he realized too late that some­thing was horribly wrong. "Asta, you're scaring me! What's wrong? What do you want?"

"All that you know of this Time Lord," the deep voice stated flatly.

Juris cried out in shock and terror as the entity suddenly infiltrated his mind. "You're hurting me! Stop, please! Give me a chance to clear my mind." To his added horror, the energy sphere started to glow and for the first time in months his prison was a torture chamber again. This seemingly unprovoked attack created only confusion in his mind drowning out all other thoughts, which only made matters worse. "Asta, stop, please! You promised! No! Please, noooo!"

The Prince's pleas turned into screams of agony as the entity tore relentlessly into his mind. As before, his struggles proved in vain against the creature's overwhelming power. Within sec­onds he was paralyzed and helpless as the memories were mercilessly stripped from his mind. When the torturous ordeal finally ended, the Alterran collapsed to the floor of his prison, ex­hausted and barely conscious.

The entity ignored his moans and moved away, growing darker still as the information torn from its prisoner was relayed to Ormril.

As Juris recovered his senses, his tears of pain became tears of anger and bitter betrayal. See­ing his captor engaged in another telepathic conference, he waited until the cloud returned to its normal color before shakily asking, "Why? Why did you do that to me? You promised…you wouldn't again. You…you _promised!_"

The entity's response was to reactivate the view screen. The voice of the mind probe opera­tor suddenly filled the room, startling the dazed Alterran Prince.

"Shall I increase the power, sir?" the operator asked.

To everyone's amazement, it was the puppet Prince Juris who answered. "No. He'll only close his mind. Send for the girl. Then we'll proceed."

* * *

The conversation in Peri's cell abruptly ended at the sound of approaching booted feet. A guard threw open the door and stood glaring at her a moment before entering. "Come with me, girl," he snarled, roughly grabbing her by the arm.

"Where are you taking me?" she demanded.

"You'll find out soon enough," the guard sneered. The door suddenly closed behind him and he spun around, his smug expression dissolving into terror as he found himself face to face with a dead man. He let out an alarmed squeak and drew his weapon, only to have his wrist grabbed by the angry Alterran monarch.

"Answer the lady's question," Jason hissed, the force of his grip causing the petrified man to whimper and drop his gun.

"You're breaking my arm!" the guard cried pathetically as he sank to his knees.

"I'll break more than your arm, if you don't answer me," the King threatened. "Now, where were you taking her?"

"To the mind probe room!" the guard wailed.

The Alterran gave a satisfied grunt, thrusting the man to the floor where he lay cradling his aching arm. Jason picked up the gun and then looked dispassionately at the quivering wretch on the floor. "Pleasant dreams," he said softly and fired the weapon pointblank before the horrified Peri could stop him.

"You didn't have to kill him!" she protested angrily.

"My dear Miss Brown," the astonished Jason protested back, "I've never killed anyone in my entire life. I only stunned him." He showed her the power switch on the weapon, indicating that it would have to be pulled all the way back in order for it to be set to kill. "Now help me tie him up."

"Why?"

Jason gave her a long-suffering look. "Because I'm going to take his place, of course," he sighed impatiently.

Once the guard was taken care of, Jason took a quick look around the room, his eyes coming to rest on the cup containing the fungus mixture. "We'd better take that with us. No telling whether the Doctor might need it or not."

"How are we going to carry—" Peri broke off when the King produced a small container out of thin air. "Show off," she chided as he filled it with the last of the solution.

"Check the door."

Peri chanced a quick peek into the corridor. "Okay. The coast is clear."

"Good." The disguised Jason pulled the door the rest of the way open and took her by the arm. "Now for the fun part. Seeing if we can pull this off."

"Oh, swell. And here I thought you knew what you were doing."

* * *

"What the devil's keeping that guard?" Farrell asked impatiently. "He should've been back by now."

"Don't hurry on my account," the Doctor said cheerfully.

No one took any notice.

"Why do we need the girl, anyway?" Farrell complained irritably. "All we have to do is in­crease the p—"

"Do you really think this archaic piece of technology will be effective against a Time Lord?" the controlled Prince asked sharply. "He'd die before you could get so much as a single image out of him." Pointing to the image of the hologram extracted from Jason's mind, he added force­fully, "And we need that program!"

Almost on cue, the disguised King Jason arrived, dragging the struggling Peri into the room with him. "Let me go, you creep!" she protested.

"Shut up and get in there," her apparent captor snarled, roughly pulling her further into the room. Turning to Farrell, he asked, "Where do you want her, sir?"

"Right there will do for the moment," Farrell purred, turning a meaningful look in the direc­tion of the helpless Time Lord. "Now, Doctor, if you don't want anything nasty to happen to your young friend, you'd better start cooperating."

Jason felt it best to play along for the moment and gave the unsuspecting Peri a very hard pinch, causing her to yelp in pain.

Unable to turn his head to see what was happening to his companion, the Doctor struggled in vain against his bonds. "Leave her alone!" he called angrily.

"Give me the program, Doctor," the Inquisitor said coldly, "or I'll have the girl sliced into pieces." He made a show of pulling a large hunting knife from a sheath and waved it before the appalled Time Lord's eyes. Re-sheathing it, he then tossed it to the disguised Jason who felt it best to play along with the show. He caught the knife neatly and theatrically produced the gleaming blade. Then he tested its balance, wondering if he would be able to throw it across the room and into the controls without hitting the Doctor in the process. It had been a long time since he had thrown a knife that distance.

By this time Peri had forgotten the guard was on her side and gave an alarmed cry when the enormous blade was produced.

"Alright," the Doctor agreed angrily. "I'll give you what you want. Just let Peri go."

"No deals, Doctor," Farrell snorted. "Give me the program _now_, or I'll have the Corporal do some permanent damage to this lovely creature."

Peri stiffened when the knife came menacingly close to her face, relaxing when Jason's famil­iar voice whispered in her ear, "Peri, knock the knife away and tell the Doctor not to do it. Fight me. Make as much noise as you can."

Peri obediently struck the disguised Alterran so hard that he gave a yelp of pain. The knife went flying and his arm went numb. "Don't do it, Doctor! Don't tell them anything!" she called.

"Silence, female!" This command was issued by the controlled Prince Juris who had been silently observing the scene since Peri's arrival. He struck the astonished young woman across the face, sending her staggering into the arms of King Jason, who pushed her aside when the Prince raised his arm to deliver another blow. Completely forgetting himself, Jason grabbed the upraised arm and very firmly forced it down.

"How dare you interfere!" Juris snarled. "I could have you shot for this insolence."

Instead of flinching away in terror the Corporal glared back, his blue eyes exposing the wrath of the enraged monarch beneath. "Just try it!" came the defiant reply.

Bewildered by this open challenge, Ormril had to rethink the situation, causing his puppet to hesitate.

Jason misinterpreted this hesitation as remorse, only to see his son's eyes become cold and unfeeling as control was reestablished. Gritting his teeth, he reminded himself that his son was either a traitor or was being controlled. Either way, he had to be stopped, and with this in mind, the disguised monarch drew his gun with his free hand.


	16. The Plan Unravels

**Chapter Sixteen**

**The Plan Unravels**

When the face of the insubordinate guard was transmitted through the spatial rift, the real Juris caught his breath. "Papa," he breathed, scarcely believing it himself. He had suspected who the guard was when he saw the look in his eyes, having seen the same look of rage and disapproval numerous times in his father's eyes. He knew who he was for certain when he heard the de­fiant reply, recognizing the voice instantly.

"Your father?" the mystified entity responded. "Explain."

Still badly shaken, Juris threw a terrified look across the room and then at the monitor screen, seeing the image from the mind probe room had frozen. With a start he realized Asta had sus­pended time yet again. "I don't know how but…that guard isn't a guard," he explained slowly. "He's…my father in disguise. He must've taken on the guard's form and…" His voice trailed off as the cloud started to darken ominously and he wondered if he had just made a major mistake. "Yo…you did know…Alterrans could transmute…didn't you?" he asked hesitantly.

"Your race has the power to physically change itself?"

Juris closed his eyes and shivered. "Oh God, you didn't know," he breathed in horror. See­ing the cloud move from its place across the room and he pressed himself back against the wall to keep from collapsing in fear. "Someone must've known!" he cried out desperately. "How else would they know to have a barrier generator operating? Or to use Alterran weapons?"

The silent creature continued to darken, causing a whimper of terror to escape the trembling youth. He closed his eyes and braced himself, expecting to be set upon again. When this did not happen he hesitantly opened his eyes, seeing his captor had stopped its advance. "Wwwell?" the Prince said shakily. "Aaaren't you…going ttto…question me?"

Asta did not respond immediately. For reasons she did not understand, some of the emotions her prisoner had explained were causing something she was not accustomed to—confusion. _Was this regret for having taken the information about the Doctor by force?_ _Were the boy's intense feelings of bitterness and betrayal causing this?_ Her Master ruled by fear and had commanded the Prince be taught a lesson in terror for withholding the fact that the Doctor was a Time Lord; and even though she had done this several times in the past, it seemed completely different now and she did not know why. _Confusion. It was very interesting_.

Finally choosing not to reply directly to the Prince's question, Asta informed, "The analysis of the information extracted from King Jason has been completed. Any further interrogation is unnecessary."

"Whose interrogation?" Juris asked pointedly. "The Doctor's or mine?"

Receiving no reply, the shaken youth closed his eyes and tried to stop trembling before, ask­ing again the question uppermost in his mind. "Asta, wh…why…?" The words got caught in his throat and he had to take a deep breath to steady himself before trying again. "Why did you… attack me?"

"It was the will of my Master," came the bland reply. "He was angered when he learned the Doctor was a Time Lord."

"Angered? I don't understand?"

"Because you withheld this fact from me," Asta went on, "my Master felt you might also be withholding other information and commanded that I strip your mind of all facts while making certain not to cause your life force permanent damage."

"Permanent damage?" Prince Juris was appalled. "You mean…you were to carve me up men­tally, but stop short of killing me?"

"Correct."

"That's _barbaric!_"

Understanding the hostility but not the reasons behind it, the entity made no reply.

"Won't you get into trouble for telling me about this?" the captive Alterran then asked.

"Trouble? Your words have no meaning."

Juris sighed, feeling as if he were starting all over again. "Won't Ormril be angry that you're telling me his commands?"

The entity grew larger and smaller as it considered the inquiry. "He hasn't forbidden it. There­fore, it is unimportant."

Unable to think of a suitable response, Juris said nothing, and wondered how he had ever thought he could get through to…to—_it_. Asta wasn't a person. She—_it_—was a thing, nothing more. To have thought otherwise was just a delusion.

"Do you do everything your Master commands?" the Prince asked almost sheepishly.

"I am an extension of his thoughts. I am incapable of doing otherwise," came the sober reply as the screen returned to life.

Swallowing hard, the young man said, "And that includes…killing me when the time comes?"

Asta's reply was forestalled when all hell broke loose on the other side of the rift. Com­mander Daniels burst into the mind probe room, took in the situation in horror, came to a com­pletely erroneous conclusion and promptly shot down the disguised King Jason before he had the chance to utter a sound.

The puppet Prince grabbed Peri by the arm and started to drag her towards the side door, giv­ing the appearance of pulling her to safety. One of Daniels' men came in just as they reached it, allowing her to break free.

The mind probe operator reached for his weapon, only to be shot down for his trouble, his gun never clearing its holster.

Realizing he had lost, Farrell dove behind the control desk and jammed all the instruments to their maximum setting. The same instant the Doctor went rigid, a cry of pain escaping him as the power sliced through his brain. The Commander put an end to his torment by firing an en­ergy bolt into the main control board, reducing it to a fused mass of metal and plastic. It contin­ued to short out, finally exploding into fragments, killing Farrell in the process.

Peri rushed to the Doctor's side, finding him unconscious but otherwise unharmed. Looking helplessly at the elaborate hardware attached to him, she turned to her rescuers and called, "Somebody help me get him out of this thing!" Two of them came to her aid while the Com­mander gave orders for the immediate arrest of all of Farrell's confederates.

The Doctor came to his senses just as the last of his restraints was removed and he looked fuzzily up at his companion. "Peri…?"

"Doctor, are you alright?" she asked concernedly, helping him to sit up. He nodded slowly but Peri could see he had no idea where he was or what was happen­ing. Remembering the flask in Jason's pocket, she turned just in time to see the stunned Alterran about to be dragged from the room. "No, stop!" she called. "That's your King!"

The Doctor stared at her a moment. "What? Peri, that's impossible. He was dying…"

"I know that!" his companion countered forcefully. She went to the disguised monarch and pulled out the flask. "I mixed up some of his fungus and—" Peri got no further and nearly jumped out of her skin when Jason awoke with a start and cried out, "Juris!" Jumping to his feet, the monarch looked around the room in dismay. "Peri, where's Juris?"

"I don't know," the American replied. "He disappeared when all the shooting started."

"We've got to find him. It's vital!" The King took a step towards the door, stopping when the guards raised their weapons. "Stand aside," he ordered.

The men refused to move.

"Your Majesty, they don't know who you are," Peri explained. Throwing an accusing look in the Doctor's direction, she added, "And they don't believe me, either."

Jason turned to the Commander. "Daniels, is this true?"

The big man said nothing and Jason sighed heavily before saying something in his own lan­guage. The Commander gave a brief smiled and bowed, silently acknowledging his sovereign. Seeing this, the Doctor waited for the animated guard to change back in to the young Lord Kry­stovan. When this did not happen, even the King seemed puzzled and he looked around the room, his face clearing when he saw the barrier generator still operating. He went over to switch it off, discovering Farrell's body behind the control desk at the same time.

"Commander, Prince Juris is to be located and detained immediately," King Jason ordered as he returned to his younger self.

"Majesty." The officer bowed and crossed to the communication screen to relay the order.

The Doctor got shakily to his feet. "Surely there's no need now that the controller is dead," he observed reasonably.

"Doctor, Farrell was the catalyst. Juris is the pathway."

"What?" The Doctor had no idea what his friend was talking about.

"He's _my_ son, remember? With telepathy on both sides of the family _and_ a working mind-bond, it's a sure bet _he's_ telepathic, too. The perfect bridge. He must've fallen under Ormril's in­fluence as soon as he arrived," Jason speculated, reflecting on the reports of the deterioration of his son's personality. Shaking his head, he added, "It's just like Rikeon in the first dynasty."

"Just like…" The Doctor blinked, not quite believing his friend would overlook something so simple as checking into the planet's history. "Jason, you Royal idiot, this _is_ Rikeon! The name was changed when it was resettled during the Ephrowe expansion."

Jason was horrified. "What!"

"I checked the readings in the TARDIS," the Doctor reminded. "There's no question. It's the same planet!"

Any further discussion was ended when, from across the room, Daniels announced, "Maj­esty, I've just been informed that someone has just barricaded themselves in the power station's main control room."

"Juris!" the King hissed. "He's trying to run the program."

"But he can't, can he?" Peri injected. "He never got it."

Jason gave her a pained look. "He didn't have to. All he needed were the access codes. And he'd've gotten those from me."


	17. The Gateway

**Chapter Seventeen**

**The Gateway**

With the hour of his death approaching rapidly, Juris was surprised to find himself so calm. He wondered if it was due to the fact that he had resigned himself to his fate so long ago. He had done what he could to stop Ormril, having set his plan into motion months ago. It did not need him to succeed now. All he had to do was watch and wait as it came together.

"Now that Farrell's dead, how will you get through the gateway?" he asked calmly.

"We must wait for the others to follow," Asta replied. "They will pursue your physical self to the power station in the vain hope of stopping him, is that not true?"

Juris nodded, a knowing look coming to his face. "Oh, they'll follow alright, but don't expect them to react the way your Master expects."

The cloud moved closer, studying the captive Prince. "You are gloating. I feel this very strongly. Explain."

"Don't you know?" he spat back bitterly. "I thought you knew everything I did. You took it from my mind, didn't you?"

"I can again, if you don't—" Asta broke off as the young man's thoughts came through clearly. "You have planned this! From the beginning! You knew they would stand together against my Master. How is it you were able to keep this hidden from me?"

"I'm Alterran," Juris replied proudly. "Deception's a way of life for us. My father and the Doctor _will_ follow your Master's puppet to the power station, and they _will_ defeat him. You wait and see."

"My Master will simply set them against one another," Asta countered blandly, "just as he's done with the countless others who claimed friendship."

Juris considered this possibility very carefully, only to shake his head. "I think he's met his match this time. There's a very strong connection between them. Not friendship, it's more than that. Surely you've felt it? It comes through in waves whenever they're together."

"I am unaware of any…connection."

"You _must_—" Cutting himself off, Juris smiled. "Maybe it's too positive for you," he ob­served thoughtfully. "It's almost as if they know what the other is thinking. How else could the Doctor have found my father in that enormous building? He wasn't just disoriented he was _blind!_ The odds against it must be astronomical. He followed the connection. It's the only explanation."

"I believe you are mistaken," came the blunt reply.

"Some might call it wishful thinking," the young man responded quietly. Turning his gaze back to the view, he smiled to himself. "When you wish upon a star…"

* * *

Inside the power station, the controlled Prince had ordered the workers from the main generator area and then locked the doors. As fate would have it, the equipment was already fully activated, a test run having been completed only moments before he arrived. Climbing the stairs to the control room overlooking the enormous generator area below, the Prince proceeded to bring all systems on line. He entered Jason's access codes and within a few minutes he had the Doctor's program running. Moving to the observation window, he stood silently watching the results.

The center of the floor slowly opened like a giant iris, revealing the massive generators deep within the heart of the facility. The workers in this area tried desperately to shut down the sys­tem, discovering to their horror that it was impossible. As the machinery increased in speed a bluish haze obscured the area, causing the men to flee in panic. High above in the control room, the controlled Prince watched as the haze grew denser and denser as the energy levels continued to rise.

In the whine of the massive generators, another sound was making itself known as the veil of time and space was torn apart to make room for the arrival of the TARDIS. The motionless watcher was oblivious to this wheezing and groaning as the time machine materialized with a final thud on the accessway below the control room.

As the extraordinary scene was displayed on the scanner, Jason shook his head. "It's started. Now there's only one way to stop this." He looked down at the weapon he had been carrying when he had taken the guards place.

The Doctor disagreed but could not get his friend to listen. The Alterran charged from the console room, weapon in hand.

"Jason, wait!"

The King was already halfway to the stairs by the time the Doctor emerged from the TARDIS. He spun around to face him, continuing to back up as he spoke. "Doctor, don't make this any more difficult! The bridge has to be closed and we both know what that means."

Peri could not quite believe what she was hearing. "You're not going to kill him?" she gasped. "Your own son?"

"My son is dead," Jason stated categorically. "He died months ago, consumed by that…that …_creature_ up there." He looked up at the control room where the Prince stood motionless in the observation window. Taking a deep breath, the King continued towards the stairs.

"Jason, this isn't the way!" the Doctor called desperately.

To the astonishment of all present, a deep, malevolent voice spoke from within the thicken­ing blue haze. "Oh, but it is the way, Time Lord. The way of Ormril is the way of death."

Jason stopped dead in his tracks, turning to look in the direction of the voice. A beam of en­ergy suddenly shot from the mist, knocking the unsuspecting monarch to the ground. He let out an alarmed cry as the energy formed a glowing ball around him.

"Shall I destroy the boy for you, O King?" the voice asked evilly. "All you need do is think him dead, and it shall be done for you."

"What?" The horrified King looked up in blank astonishment.

The Doctor's eyes grew wide with the realization that he had been right all along. "Why?" he asked suddenly. "Can't you do it yourself?"

"I am Ormril the all powerful, Time Lord," came the grandiose reply.

"No, I don't think so. You _need_ us. This facility is capable of generating massive amounts of energy, put it isn't enough, is it? It's only enough to keep the gateway open, but it isn't enough to physically pull you through. You need the energy produced by a _living_ mind to do that."

"You understand _nothing!_" the disembodied voice snarled.

"Don't I?" the Doctor went on. "You feed on evil. Twist it back on the one producing it. Well, I won't give you anything to feed on." As he spoke, the Time Lord felt the alien trying to infiltrate his thoughts and was somewhat surprised himself when he was able to completely close his mind to him.

An angry growl emanated from the haze as Ormril recalled his previous defeat at the hands of the Doctor's ancestors. Another energy beam flashed out, only instead of striking the Doctor, it struck Peri, who was knocked off of her feet and sent flying. She hit the far wall and fell heav­ily to the floor, stunned.

"There was no need for that!" the Doctor snapped angrily. The words were barely out of his mouth when another beam struck him and he, too, was trapped inside a glowing sphere of en­ergy. _Oh, that was brilliant._

While all this was going on, the puppet Prince had descended the stairs and retrieved the gun dropped by the King. He pointed it at the head of the trapped monarch and then froze like a statue. Jason said nothing, his eyes locked on the vacant face, and empty, staring eyes of the young man standing over him. Now that Ormril no longer needed to inhabit the Prince's body, Jason could see he had been right. His son was dead and he was looking into the eyes of nothing more than a walking corpse. _Oh, my poor Juris What did he do to you?_

"Think him dead," Ormril commanded, breaking into the King's disheartened thoughts with a jolt. "Destroy him, or I will have him destroy you."

"Destroy me, then," Jason said, looking away in despair. "I've never taken a life. And I can't start with my own son."

Ormril's rage shook the building to its foundations. "Then I'll have him kill _you,_ you spine­less jellyfish! Then he will be ruler of your miserable little planet. King Juris the unjust."

"How?" Jason asked pointedly. "Once you're out of there, you'll have that creature of yours suck the very life out of him—if you haven't already."

An evil laugh rumbled forth. "You know much of me, don't you, O King? But not as much as you believe. I have other plans for the boy. I shall send him back to his people, the traitorous as­sassin of his own father!"

"No!" Jason hissed between his teeth. He could feel his anger rising, and apparently so could the Doctor, who cleared his throat very softly. Recognizing the warning, the Alterran looked over at him and could tell just by the way he was standing that the Doctor knew something he didn't._ What?_ he wondered. _What do you **know?**_ Gritting his teeth and with visible effort, Jason controlled his anger and turned away, saying nothing.

The Doctor breathed a sigh of relief. "It won't work, Ormril," he taunted. "You're going to have to kill us all by yourself. You can't twist Jason into something he's not. You obviously know of his volatile temper, but you know nothing of his heart. You can't make either of us hate Juris enough to want to kill him. Especially when we know it's _you_ who's controlling him."

"Are you so sure, Time Lord?" Ormril taunted back. "What do you think your friend will say when I tell him I've already seen in your mind that you hate the boy? He struck your companion, did he not?"

Before the shocked Jason could respond, the Doctor snorted, "Rubbish! He knows me better than—" He cut himself off as he realized what Ormril was trying to do. Shaking his head, he gave his voice a mocking tone as he replied, "Oh, no, you're going to have to do a lot better than that. We've known each other far too long for you to drive a wedge between us that easily."

Now it was Ormril's turn to snort before trying his hand with Jason. "And what do you say, O King? Will you continue to fol­low this Time Lord in this vain folly? Even at the risk of the life of your first born?"

Jason's heart missed a beat and he looked beseechingly over at the Doctor, desperately wish­ing he knew what he was up to. The steady gaze he received in response spoke volumes. In his mind, he could almost hear the Doctor saying, _"Trust me on this. You _must_ trust me. Please."_ When they traveled together, how many times had he followed the Time Lord unques­tioningly into danger knowing little more than he did now? Now he understood the full implications of his meeting with the Time Lord's future self. _Yes, I trust you, Doctor_. _Even at the risk of the life of my first born._ A ghost of a smile passed across his face and he squared his shoulders, turning back to the energy haze. In a firm voice he said the one word Ormril least ex­pected.

"Yes."


	18. Close The Pathway

**Chapter Eighteen**

**Close The Pathway**

This open display of Jason's unwavering faith surprised even the Doctor, but he did not al­low it to show. The last thing he wanted was to lose the upper hand now. "There's your answer," he said triumphantly. "Trust. Absolute trust. Something you don't know how to handle. You need negative emotions to pull you through, and with Farrell dead, you don't have a catalyst to focus the ones being generated outside."

"Farrell was expendable. This boy will—"

The Doctor cut him off, pressing home his advantage. "An Alterran as your catalyst? Come now. He can't possibly generate the kinds of emotions you need to latch on to. You need hate, greed, malice, jealously. You need _human_ emotions."

To the Doctor's chagrin, he heard the only human in the room moan as Peri regained her senses. He groaned inwardly, wishing she had stayed unconscious. He knew by his silence that Jason was following or at least attempting to follow his reasoning. He was not sure if Peri could, and if she got angry or upset or even—

The Doctor's fears were justified as the intensity of the energy field suddenly increased, caus­ing him to cry out in pain. Across the room, the ball surrounding Jason flared also, tearing an agonizing scream from him.

"Stop it! Stop it!" Peri cried from her place on the floor. "You're killing them!"

The Doctor knew he had to distract her before Ormril could get control of her. "Peri, never mind us, get to the Prince. Break his concentration! You must shut down the pathway!"

Peri took in the seemingly overwhelming situation and moaned helplessly, "How?" The con­tainer of fungus solution was still in her pocket and she pulled it out and winced, its having made a very large bruise when she was thrown against the wall. She was about to toss it aside when a wild idea came into her head. "What've I got to lose?" she thought, pulling open the container.

"Do you mock me now, Time Lord?" the deep voice laughed as his captives twisted help­lessly within the energy fields.

The Doctor ignored the taunts, fighting the pain racking his body. When this only increased the severity, he realized he was going at it the wrong way and forced himself to relax. "Jason, don't fight!" he called. "Fear and anger…are negative. That's the key!"

"Silence, Time Lord!" Ormril commanded.

The Doctor cried out again as the glow of his sphere flared, increasing the severity of his tor­ment.

"I'll destroy you! I'll destroy you all!"

"How?" the Doctor struggled to say. "You need…hate to do that…and we…won't…hate. Jason can't kill. He's Alterran. It…isn't in his nature. And the _real_ Juris couldn't kill for the same rea­son. Stalemate." As the Doctor spoke, the intensity of the energy field subsided dramati­cally, the pain fading along with it.

"Of course!" Jason gasped, finding his voice at last. "He _can't_ use Juris to replace Farrell be­cause he's not human. In spite of everything, deep down he's _still_ not violent by nature." The an­ger Jason felt at the enslavement of his son fueled his own energy sphere and he cried out as his torment increased once again.

Ormril laughed in sadistic delight. "The boy is my puppet, O King of Stupidity. An exten­sion of _my_ will."

During the entire exchange the controlled Prince had remained motionless, the weapon unwaver­ing in his hand. Peri had been inching her way over to him, encouraging the Doctor un­der her breath to keep talking, to keep that Ormril guy busy so he would not notice her. She was within an arm's length of the Prince when Ormril finally noticed her. "Juris, the girl," he snapped suddenly. "Kill her."

"No! Juris, don't!" Jason cried in desperation. The energy field flared to an excruciating level. Helpless in its grasp, he succumbed to the pain with an agonizing scream.

Even with the restraining life force of the real Juris removed, the Alterran's true nature domi­nated, just as Jason said it would. The puppet Prince fought his last command, his innate abhor­rence to violence struggling against the order to take a life.

Peri watched the hesitant youth, her fingers tightening around the container in her hand. "Come on, come on, just look at me," she hissed under her breath.

"He's fighting control!" the Doctor announced.

"Kill the woman. I, Ormril, command it."

Juris' grip on the gun tightened and he turned to Peri, who immediately threw the liquid into his face, hoping it would make him drop the gun, which it did. The Prince cried out as the solu­tion burned his eyes, reeling back with his hands to his face. Peri snatched up the laser pistol and pushed the lever to the front as Jason had shown her and took aim. Holding her breath, she fired and the staggering Alterran collapsed to the floor.

Without realizing, Peri succeeded in closing the pathway in a permanent fashion. When the fungus solution was absorbed into the Alterran's bloodstream, it triggered the rejuvenation of his brain cells that had been damaged when the pathway was created. This immediately caused Ormril's control to slip, and because Peri had also stunned the youth, it was impossible for con­trol to be reestablished. In fact, he lost control completely. Since this was the only thing keeping him at the threshold of the inter-dimensional gateway, there was a backlash of energy. The un­prepared Ormril was thrown helplessly back into his own dimension.

"Nooooo!" The deep voice was heard fading into the distance, the blue haze flaring brightly and then subsiding. The same instant the energy spheres vanished, releasing the Doctor and Jason from their torment. Dazed and visibly shaken, they collapsed to the floor gasping for breath.

Not quite sure what had just happened, Peri looked around in blank astonishment. She went cautiously over to the downed Prince to make certain he was really unconscious.

When Jason recovered enough to drag himself to his elbows he saw Peri sitting beside his son and crawled over to her. To his dismay, she looked up with tears streaming down her face.

"I…I…I've killed him."

* * *

The real Prince Juris had watched in pride and sorrow as the confrontation in the power station played out before him.

"My Master could not make them turn against one another," Asta observed in puzzlement. "No matter what he said."

"I told you he wouldn't," Juris said in as even a tone as possible. "But you still don't under­stand, do you?"

The image on the viewer moved in closer on Jason as he sat cradling his son's body in his arms. "Your father," Asta said, "his emotions are very strong, even with the pathway fad­ing. Do you feel them? It is as with you when you thought him dead."

"I told you. It's called grief. It's what happens when you lose someone you love."

"Love again," came the mystified reply. "Explain. Why does he grieve? He should be pleased that he's won."

The young man gazed sadly at his weeping father. "No. The price was too high."

"Your words still have no meaning."

"No, I don't suppose they do," Juris sighed, thinking sadly of the things left unsaid. The things his father would never hear. Never. Pulling himself together, he said, "It's difficult enough to lose a loved one. But to have your own child murdered in front of you…" Shaking his head, the Prince said, "He'll mourn for the rest of his life."

The cloud changed shape as the entity considered all this. "This one emotion is very com­plex. How do you understand it?"

Juris was about to say that no one truly understood it when the room was shaken as if by an earthquake. "My Master has been returned to his observation port," Asta announced.

With his death now an absolute certainty, the trapped Alterran swallowed hard, watching fear­fully as the cloud darkened until it was almost completely black. In a sudden and swift movement, it completely enveloped the sphere, causing Juris to catch his breath. He closed his eyes and braced himself, but nothing happened. Hesitantly, he opened his eyes and was shocked to see a thick, sticky ooze coating the exterior of his prison. "Wh…what…is that?" he gasped.

"That's how I appear within the cloud," Asta replied.

Juris looked at the substance and shuddered. "Are you…going to…absorb me now?" he asked shakily.

"No. I must wait until my Master recovers from the energy backlash."

Unable to think of anything to say, Juris fell silent, and tried to stay as calm as possible so as not to give the creature anything negative to latch on to.

The silence was broken by the entity itself, but unlike before, the voice was strained, the speech less stilted and formal. "Juris, I want you to understand that…I don't _want_ to harm you. I…I have no alternative. I am powerless against the will of Ormril."

The captive Alterran could not quite believe his ears and wondered if he had actually been right in the first place. Asta had attained sentience. Whether it was this glimmer of hope or just blind panic, Juris could not say, but something caused him to have a brainstorm. "No! You _do_ have an alternative. You can send me back. Then you can utilize the positive energies I taught you about and cross over with me—alone."

"_I can't!_ Ormril is my Master," Asta replied regretfully.

"He's not! You're not a thing anymore. You have feelings, emotions of your own. You may not understand them, but you've got them just the same." Receiving no reply, Juris pressed on, "Asta, I can't help you here, but I can there. Please, you must send me back."

"I…I…can't…I can't think," Asta moaned.

"Don't think, act. That's what freedom is all about."

"Juris, you don't understand. I'm not free. I'm a slave controlled by mental force. Any men­tal force. If you drew me through the gateway, then _you_ would control me. I would be _your_ slave."

Juris blinked, not having realized this. Would he be able to free her from himself on the other side of the gateway, he wondered. Surely that wouldn't be that difficult, would it?

"But here, Ormril is my Master, and…he commands that you die," Asta went on sadly. "I…I have no choice. I must obey."

The Prince stiffened visibly as the ooze coating his prison suddenly thickened further. "Did he tell you to kill me just now?" he asked hurriedly.

"No, but—"

"Then how do you know he wants me dead?" Juris cried in desperation. "He said he was send­ing me back to my people, remember? I'll _still_ have to stand trail for my part in all this. Send me back _now_, before he changes the order."

There was no reply from the blackening cloud and Juris looked around in near panic. "Asta, if you kill me, you'll be his slave forever! Out there I can change that, but you _must_ send me back. Please! For both our sakes!"

Another rumble shook the room and the Prince covered his face with his arms as the sphere started to dissolve.


	19. Asta, Now!

**Chapter Nineteen**

"**Asta, Now!"**

The grieving Jason sat rocking his son's body in his arms, tears flowing freely down his face. The Doctor crossed slowly to him, but words of comfort failed him. Would his friend blame him for his son's death as Ormril had claimed? Peri came over to join him, holding out the offending weapon.

"Doctor, I…I…didn't…" she stammered.

"No, you didn't," the Time Lord replied gently, taking the gun from her hand. "This is set to stun, not kill. You didn't do anything wrong."

"Didn't do anything wrong! Doctor, I just killed a man!"

To their mutual surprise, King Jason responded. "No," he said softly, shaking his head. "I told you. He was already dead. He was already dead." He stroked the face on the still form, whispering, "My beautiful boy is at peace at last."

As if on cue, the Prince stirred and moaned softly, causing his astonished father to catch his breath. "Juris!"

Juris stirred again, his eyes snapping open. "Asta!" He sat bolt upright, calling into the blue haze, "Asta, please, before it's too late! You must decide now!"

The room was suddenly bathed in blue light and the Doctor spun around, cursing under his breath as he realized the gateway was still open. The haze above the generator area grew thicker and thicker until it looked like a cloud of blue smoke.

"He's trying to reestablish the link!" the Time Lord hissed.

"Asta!" Juris called again. "Use what you've learned!"

The Doctor checked the weapon in his hand and turned back to the Prince, only to stop when he saw the boy's body glow blue. It was as though an invisible weapon had stunned him. As if to verify this observation, Juris suddenly fell back against his father, his eyes rolling back into his head as he passed out.

The Doctor turned back to the generator area, seeing the cloud of energy had grown to enor­mous proportions and was moving freely within the haze. "Jason…" he said warningly.

Jason looked up, following his friend's gaze and stiffening visibly. He struggled to pull him­self together. It was all too obvious this was not over yet. "Here we go again," he muttered softly.

"Please, don't be afraid," a gentle feminine voice said from within the cloud. "I will not harm you."

"Oh, sure," Peri replied sarcastically, receiving a quelling look from the Doctor.

"You need not fear me, Doctor," the entity said in response to this. "I am not Ormril."

The Time Lord was less than convinced. "Indeed? May I ask who you are, then?"

"I am the one Prince Juris calls Asta."

Jason looked up sharply and then back at his unconscious son, gently stroking his cheek. He wondered what condition the boy's mind would be in because of Ormril's manipulation. Would he still be the evil creature he had been before his personality breakdown? And if not, would he able to live with himself after all he'd done during this strange ordeal?

"Your son's mind will be whole, your Majesty," Asta said in reply to the King's thoughts. "He was not manipulated in the way you believe. He will be troubled for a time because of this … strange ordeal. But his spirit is strong. This you will see."

Jason mouth dropped open in amazement. "How did you know what I was thinking?"

"Of course!" the Doctor exclaimed. "She works by thought! The only person who wasn't con­trolled in some way was Peri, because she's not telepathic."

"Correct, Doctor," the entity confirmed. "It was Ormril who used this power against you. And as his slave, I am—_I was_—powerless to do anything to prevent it."

At that moment Juris moaned and stirred, his eyes opening slowly and focusing on the face above him. "Papa…?" he said in bewilderment. Jolted awake by this unexpected sight, he sat up quickly and stared open mouthed at his father. "Father, how did you—?" Breaking off, he looked around in amazement, seeing that, after more than a year of captivity, he was finally out of the energy sphere. "I'm back!" he cried delightedly, jumping to his feet. "I'm really back. Asta, you did it!" Turning to the noticeably silent cloud of smoke, the now bewildered Juris called again, "Asta?"

"I'm here," she replied meekly. "Everything went just as you said. With your help, I was able to pass through alone. What do you command?"

A pained expression came to Juris' face when he heard this and he closed his eyes. _Now what should I do?_

"Jason," the Doctor remarked, "something tells me your son knows a great deal more about what's going on than we do."

Prince Juris turned to face him, a self-conscious smile coming to his face. He explained as much as he could, the beginning of everything being more than a year ago. Since his previous es­cape attempt, Ormril had been searching for an untrained telepath and had decided Prince Juris was made to order. He soon discovered that he could not control him as easily as he could Farrell, the boy's Alterran nature asserting itself whenever he tried. Not wanting to loose the most promising telepath he had encountered in centuries, he was able to get a complete scan of the Prince's mind using Farrell's mind probe. With this, he was able to draw off Juris' restraining life force, and take him over completely, turning him into perfect pathway.

Juris went on to explain that during Ormril's long exile, and without his knowledge, his crea­tion had developed into a sepa­rate being. It had been on the verge of or had only just attained sentience when the Prince was taken prisoner. The newly formed being had been intrigued by the Alterran's compassionate nature and sought to learn from him, something Juris admitted to being a less than willing participant in.

Having learned his father's was being called into head up a new investigation team, Juris planted the seed for the plan that had just played out and caused Ormril's downfall. A plan that hinged on getting the Doctor involved. The Prince had heard stories of the indomitable Time Lord all his life and had come to realize that, individually the old friends were formidable but together they were a force to be reckoned with. Better still, they were telepathic.

"I don't get it?" Peri injected suddenly. "I thought that's why Ormril was able to hurt them. How does it help?"

It was Asta who replied. "Whether they realize it or not, the Doctor and King Jason are in very strong rapport with one another. Prince Juris saw it, but I didn't. Not until the Doctor stood against Ormril."

Peri was none the wiser.

"His majesty was enraged by the enslavement of his son, and maintained a slim hope that he could be saved. Even when Juris's life was threatened, his faith in the Doctor did not waver. It came through very clearly. He believed unshakably that the Doctor knew what he was doing."

"He was right," Juris added.

"Was I?" Jason asked darkly, receiving a puzzled look from his son.

"Your father fears for the people of this planet," Asta said in response to the Prince's unspo­ken question. "He fears what they will do when they see the energy cone. It was supposed to cre­ate panic, but I assure you, your Majesty, it won't."

"How can you be so sure?" Jason wanted to know.

"Because I've placed the planet in a time bubble with this room at its heart. Time on the out­side will not begin again until my new Master desires it so."

"Your new…" The King exchanged an astonished look with the Doctor, who asked, "And just who is your new Master?"

In a small voice, Prince Juris admitted, "I'm afraid I am."

Jason turned sharply to his son, a harsh, disapproving look on his face.

Juris held up his hands, taking an automatic step back. "It's not what you think!" he ex­claimed, going on to relate the events that had transpired during what should have been his last hour of existence; the miraculous change in his captor and his realization that he could get her out by utilizing the positive energies being generated in the power station.

"Positive?" Peri was justifiably puzzled. "But I thought that it—_she_—only fed on negative emotions."

"That's what everyone assumed," Asta said calmly. "I was created to direct the energies gener­ated by _all_ strong emotions. I could only utilize those you call negative because those were all Ormril understood. Prince Juris explained how positive emotions could be even more power­ful than negative. I saw what he meant when you stood together."

"The positive energies pouring out of this room were just too powerful to ignore," Juris in­jected.

"Hang on a minute," the Doctor interrupted. "You'll forgive my morbid curiosity, but how is it you were alive long enough to think all this through?"

Juris threw a look in the cloud's directions, and Asta explained, "When Prince Juris was taken prisoner, Ormril commanded that his life force be held in suspension, protected by a force-field. I was not to…" Asta trailed off, the connection with her new Master making it difficult to go on.

"He didn't want her to kill me until he gave the order," Juris completed. "And when he was thrown back from the threshold, he was too disoriented to give any kind of order."

"Because I can not go against my Master's will," Asta went on, "Prince Juris told me to carry out the last order concerning him. And that was to send him back to stand trial."

"Brilliant!" the Doctor said approvingly. "That's absolutely brilliant!"

"Yeah, brilliant," the Prince said half-heartedly. "Unfortunately, now that we're on _this_ side of the rift, she's as much _my_ slave as she was Ormril's."


	20. A New Master

**Chapter Twenty**

**A New Master**

Appalled by this news, Jason gasped, "What?" turning to the cloud. "Asta, is this true?"

"Yes, your Majesty," came the quiet, sorrowful reply. "I'm a slave to whoever draws me through, linked into their very brain patterns and compelled to obey."

"Well, if that's so," the Doctor said thoughtfully, "then perhaps his Highness would be kind enough to utilize your powers to do some good for a change." He received a horrified look from the others.

"Doctor!" King Jason exclaimed disapprovingly. "You're the last person I'd expect to con­done slavery. This is savage!"

"No, Majesty, the Doctor has something specific in mind," Asta injected calmly, having al­ready received a mental image of what the Time Lord meant. "He desires that I heal this trou­bled planet, repair the damage that was done. He feels—" She paused a moment. "It's so diffi­cult. I can't identity these emotion with words."

"Concern? Empathy? Compassion?" Jason suggested helpfully.

Juris was more to the point. "Can you do it, Asta? And I'm not commanding you," he added quickly. "I'm only asking."

The cloud of smoke changed color slightly. "You're still very puzzling," Asta remarked, bring­ing a smile to the Prince's face. "Yes, I can do it, if you so desire. I can't bring back those who lost their lives in the violence, but I can return the rest to the way it was."

"_Before_ Ormril's influence altered its natural course?" the Doctor injected pointedly. It was bad enough when the indigenous population produced a power mad individual who set the population against itself, producing war, disease and the like. But to have an alien madman the likes of Ormril doing so was something the Doctor could not allow. The people of the planet did not even know they were being used. If Asta could break off the external influence, good. If she could return the planet to it's previous, peaceful state, all the better. To his delight, Asta replied, "Yes, Time Lord, I can do that also."

"Good," Juris said approvingly. "Then do it."

There was a long silence as Asta carried out this command, the cloud changing color several time during the process. Finally she announced that, as soon as the time bubble was removed, all would be as it was before.

"Is there anything else I may do to serve you, Mas—your Highness?"

"No," Juris replied firmly. "I don't want you to serve me. I just want you to call me Juris again. The kind of power you offer isn't healthy. I don't want anything to do with it."

While this pronouncement brought a glow of pride to Jason's face, it caused the smoky haze to change color drastically, going from bright blue to a dull, slightly greenish tint. "I…don't un­derstand," Asta said at last. "Am I to be ignored?"

"No, independent. Able to act on your own," the Prince said calmly. "I intend to honor my promise and free you as of now."

The words were barely out of his mouth when a beam of light suddenly flashed from the haze, enveloping the appalled Prince in an energy field. He let out a cry of alarm as he was drawn into the cloud. "Asta! What're you doing!" he exclaimed in a panicky voice.

"Don't be afraid, Juris, I'm not going to hurt you," came the quiet reply. "I need to explain that—"

"Explain! What's to explain? I free you and this is the thanks I get."

"Juris, please, listen to me! If you do what I see in your mind, you'll die! You'll destroy your­self and me."

Stunned, the young man was momentarily silent. "How?" he asked at last. "How can I de­stroy _you?_ You're indestructible."

"Nothing is indestructible."

"But…"

"Will you allow me to show you telepathically?" Asta asked.

Now in the midst of the thick, smoke-like energy haze, Juris looked around nervously and wondered if he had been wise to bring Asta through the dimensional portal.

"Juris, I won't hurt you." This was spoken in so soothing a tone it actually startled the Prince. He drew a deep breath and relaxed as best he could, closing his eyes. "Alright. Show me."

The sphere started to glow, but instead of intense pain, the Alterran found himself filled with a sense of peace and completely relaxed in spite of himself. He was aware of Asta entering his mind, and found that she too had changed and was extremely gentle. The mental image she gave him, however, was utterly terrifying and his eyes snapped open at the horror of it. "Why didn't you tell me this before?" he demanded shakily.

"You _still_ don't understand," Asta replied. "I was linked to Ormril then."

"I said I'd free you," the Prince protested.

"I didn't believe you, don't you see? I've seen too many people make promises in despera­tion that they had no intention of keeping. I thought when you saw I couldn't hurt you anymore, you'd use me as he did, only in a different manner."

"How could you think that about me?"

"You're Alterran. Deception's a way of life, isn't that what you said?" Asta reminded, feel­ing the pang of remorse Juris felt at hearing his own words. "I misjudged you," she said slowly, "and I'm sorry."

Her tone amazed the young man, as did the feelings of sorrow and remorse that flooded over him. "Why…? How is it you _feel_ this so strongly now?"

"Because I'm linked to you now. _Your_ brain patterns. I see as you do. _Feel_ as you do. I under­­stand now why you were angry with me for betraying your trust when—"

"What do you mean _were_ angry?" Juris interrupted. "I am angry! Look at me! Look where I am—again!"

"Juris, I'm trying to apologize—"

"Why bother? I'm your prisoner all over again."

"No! You're here because you want to hear what I have to say," Asta corrected sharply. "Oth­erwise you'd've ordered me to let you go. You gave me the power to act independently and I'm trying to save your life, in case you hadn't noticed."

Prince Juris opened his mouth to argue, only to close it again. She was right and he knew it. In spite of his anger, he had wanted to hear what she had to say. But would she really let him go if he ordered her to?

This thought had no sooner crossed his mind than the force field vanished and the startled Juris found himself back on the accessway being barraged with questions. "I'm alright!" he pro­tested, holding up his hands. "She didn't hurt me, honestly." Looking over at the cloud, he added, "I don't think she can anymore."

"So what happens now?" Peri asked in bewilderment.

"I don't know. That's Asta's decision," Juris said firmly.

The Doctor turned pointedly to the energy haze and paused, having the strangest feeling that somehow he had seen it before. This was an odd time to experience déjà vú, he thought. "Well, Asta? What _do_ we do now?" he asked.

"It isn't so much what _we_ can do as much as what _you_ can do, Doctor," Asta replied, adding startlingly. "You can free me."

The Time Lord blinked, clearly taken aback by this announcement. "I thought Prince Juris just did that."

"No, not in the way you think. For me to be completely independent, he must sever the thought link. But if that is done improperly, Juris will die and I'll be destroyed when the energy cone is shut down. In order to be truly free, I must leave the energy field all together."

"But that's impossible!" Jason gasped. "You're a part of it."

The Doctor waved him to silence. "I'm not entirely sure I know what you're asking," he said calmly.

"I'm asking you to help me pass into physical being."

"Physical being?" Jason was incredulous and exchanged an amazed and dubious look with the Doctor.

Juris ignored them both. "Can't I help you get out?"

"No, Juris, not this time," Asta said in an almost amused tone. "I require the Doctor's assis­tance in order to leave the energy field _and_ sever the link without harming you. There is much you don't understand that he does."

The Doctor wasn't so sure about that, but kept this thought to himself and considered the impli­ca­tions of Asta's request in silence. Would she be easier or harder to control once she left the energy field? Would she become another Ormril? Or would she simply be a mortal being, vulnerable and fallible?

The Doctor was forced to admit that he did not know the answers to any of these questions. Nor could he get away from the fact that Asta's situation closely paralleled that of Kamelion. Once the robot had become enslaved to the Master's will, the only way for him to gain his free­dom was to beg the Doctor to destroy him. The last thing the Time Lord wanted was to destroy another enslaved creature. Not if there were a way of avoiding it.

The Time Lord's reverie was broken when Asta again asked, "Well, Doctor? Will you help me?"


	21. Pillar Of Light

**Chapter Twenty-One**

**Pillar Of Light**

Juris was surprised that Asta would have to ask at all, let alone twice. "Don't you know?"

"As with the others of his race," Asta informed, "the Doctor guards his thoughts and emo­tions very carefully. While I remain passive, I only know those thoughts he wishes to reveal. All others are closed to me."

The Doctor's eyes flickered, but his pensive expression did not change. "Before I agree to anything," he began firmly, "I'll need to know more. What exactly do you have in mind?"

"If you'll open your mind, I can give you all the answers you desire telepathically."

The Doctor remained silent, his thoughts on this being known only to Asta, who said, "Yes, Doctor, I do have the power to force you. But that would cause you considerable pain, and Juris doesn't approve of that. You must initiate contact yourself."

The Doctor threw an inquiring look in the direction of the Alterran Prince, who held up his hands and shook his head, gesturing to indicate he had not been the one to make her say this. With a bit of a shock, the truth suddenly dawned on the astonished Time Lord. Asta truly cared for Juris. Not as her Master, but as a person. An individual. This was just the key he had been looking for. Now he had no doubts.

Drawing a deep breath, the Doctor closed his eyes and a finger of light slowly moved from the energy field. The instant it reached him, it enveloped him completely, but unlike before, it did not trap him. His body started to glow dimly. The glow flared suddenly, causing the Doctor to catch his breath, his face twisted in pain. He held up his hands, taking a step back. "Not so fast! Not so fast!" he exclaimed. His face cleared and he stood motionless for several minutes.

The light vanished the moment the Time Lord opened his eyes and he looked at the energy haze in wonder. "You know?" he muttered approvingly. "It just might work."

Flashing a broad smile at the others, the Doctor turned, vanishing into the TARDIS. He reap­peared a few minutes later carrying what appeared to be a control board from the control con­sole. Without a word, he climbed the stairs to the power station's control room and proceeded to connect the board into the main computer terminal.

After a long, puzzled silence, Prince Juris turned to his father and smiled apologetically. "Papa, I—" He got no further. His use of the endearment he had not used in years brought tears to Jason's eyes and he hugged his son tightly, letting out a sob of joy when Juris hugged him back. This was the first time since his arrival that the boy had shown any kind of affection.

"Welcome back, Juris," the King whispered. "I missed you. Oh, Lord, how I missed you."

"Oh, Papa, you have no idea!" the Prince replied tearfully. "I thought they'd killed you!"

The emotional reunion was ultimately interrupted when the Doctor finished his connections and switched on the microphone. "Are you ready, Asta? The systems are coming on line."

"Yes, Doctor," came the calm reply.

After a brief pause, the Doctor said, "Here we go, then."

The dense cloud and surrounding blue haze slowly started to fold in on itself, compressing into a solid pillar of light. It hovered in the center of the opening above the generators a few sec­onds as the Doctor made several entries into the computer. When he finished, the pillar moved to the edge of the accessway where the others stood watching in an awed silence. The pillar flared brightly a moment, forcing them to shield their eyes. When the glare faded, the actual shape of the pillar was more discernible, as was the obscured silhouette of the being within. The operation proceeded without a hitch until Asta tried to step from the energy field and came up against a solid barrier. For the first time in her short existence, she felt real terror. "Doctor, I can't get out!" she cried. "I'm trapped!"

"Don't panic. Don't panic," the Time Lord called back. He quickly checked the instruments, looking up in bewilderment. "I don't see a problem this end. Is someone holding you back?"

Asta concentrated on those around her. "No. I feel no resistance, only…only… Oh! I don't have the right words!" she said in frustration. "Like fear, but not strong."

"Apprehension," Juris injected helpfully.

"Yes, apprehension," she verified before going on to say, "Doctor, the form isn't solid enough to break free. Are you sure everything is functioning properly?"

The Doctor double-checked the readings, seeing everything to be as it should be. "Every-thing's in perfect order," he replied.

Juris gave Jason a pleading look. "Father, could you…?"

The King nodded and went over to the living block of light, looking it up and down. "Doctor, is it safe for me to touch this thing?" he called.

The Time Lord did not have to ask why. The Alterran's unique ability to scan anything he touched had proven a lifesaver on more than one occasion when they were traveling together. "Yes," he called down, "but don't be surprised if it feels semisolid."

From his place in the control room the Doctor watched as his friend placed a hand on the pil­lar and then snatched it away. "There might be a slight static field," he added belatedly.

Jason threw him a sour look. "Thanks," he muttered darkly before putting his hand on the pillar again.

The Doctor waited patiently for the diagnosis as Jason carefully scanned the block. With any luck, he would be able to discover what had gone wrong.

After a minute the monarch stepped back and looked thoughtfully at the form outlined in the block of light. "Asta, do you know how you want to appear once you leave the energy field?"

"Yes. I have the image Juris has given me."

Jason sighed heavily and continued to scowl at the block. He had had his doubts about all this, while at the same time had every confidence that, if anyone could pull this off, the Doctor could. So why wasn't it working? He could sense the presence of a living being, but the exact form didn't register distinctly. It was just like—

"Of course!" the King gasped excitedly, turning to his son. "I should've realized. Juris, if the image is from you, it's Alterran. She'll need to know how to transmute to properly manifest her­self. You'll have to go through it mentally with her, going from your true form to your human imprint."

"But why can't you—?"

The King sighed heavily. "Because, my dear child, _I'm_ not the one who's linked to her. If any­one's going to hold her back, you are. So you're the one who has to pull her out."

Juris gave his father a skeptical look as he came to stand beside him. He put a hand on the pillar and was surprised when he felt Asta pushing back from the other side. For a fleeting in­stant, he felt uncharacteristically malicious, a wave of vindictive satisfaction flooding over him. _Now she knows what it was like to be trapped like an animal_, he thought, recalling his own terror when he found himself imprisoned.

On the other side of the semisolid barrier, Asta read these thoughts clearly, Juris having forgot­ten he was still telepathically linked to her. Suddenly she understood the betrayal he had felt and her terror grew. "No!" she wailed. "Juris, please! I can't go back! Not after coming this far! Please, help me."

Juris was the only one to know the real reason for Asta's cry of anguish and immediately re­gretted his malicious thoughts. "Don't be afraid," he soothed gently. "I'm going to give you the image, alright? Just concentrate as I go through it." After a pause, he asked, "Do you have it?"

"Yes. It is very—unusual."

The significance of this remark was lost on Peri, who had no idea that Alterrans were a non-humanoid lifeform, or that their true form would have terrified her.

"Now," Juris said patiently, "follow the change and reach for my hand. Got it? Think the form and reach for my hand."

After a few seconds, a small delicate hand emerged from the pillar. The Prince smiled broadly, drawing out the rest of the arm to see the woman he had pictured in his mind emerging into his world of confusing emotions. She paused on the threshold as if uncertain, causing the youth to grin all the more. He took her by the waist and lifted her out.

The instant Asta was free of the energy field, the block of light exploded into thousands of star-like fragments, bringing a shower of the energy residue upon the pair that would sever the enslaving mental link permanently.

Asta watched the cascading stars in wonder, and then looked at Juris. "_Now_ I am free," she an­nounced and promptly fainted dead away.


	22. Lady Asta

**Chapter Twenty-Two**

**Lady Asta**

"She's feeling the effects of the open gateway," the Doctor called from the control room. "Quickly, your Highness, get her into the TARDIS. It will protect her while I close everything down."

Juris swept Asta into his arms, turning to see his father was already making his way to the police box. Peri made to follow, only to stop just outside the open doorway. She watched as the Time Lord worked in the control room, realizing, with a bit of a shock, that he had never been up there before. The newly constructed facility was not even operational, yet he seemed to know exactly where everything was. Had he been given this knowledge during his telepathic con­fer­ence with Asta?

Peri was jolted out of her thoughts by the sound of pounding fists that suddenly filled the room. The Doctor came clambering down the stairs, the control panel under his arm. "The pow­ers that be seem to want to come in here rather badly," he remarked as he gently guided his com­panion into the TARDIS. "I think it's time we left."

The police box dematerialized just as the doors to the generator area burst open. A group of angry plant workers flooded into the room and then stopped dead. To their dismay, it was empty.

* * *

Jason was examining the recovering Asta when the Doctor and Peri entered the console room. As soon as the TARDIS was in flight, the Time Lord turned to his old friend. "Well, Healer Jason, what's the diagnosis?"

The monarch looked up, he himself being amazed by his findings. "She's Alterran. All the way down to her atomic makeup. How on earth did you do it?"

"I didn't. She did," the Doctor replied succinctly. "Emc², remember? Instead of mass be-com­ing energy, energy became mass."

Asta smiled weakly when Jason turned a questioning look in her direction. "The Doctor was able to direct the energy field using the light speed overdrive system from his TARDIS," she in­formed. "Once it was connected into the control systems of the power plant, we were able to co­ordinate our efforts to create this physical form."

"But even your DNA is accurate," Jason remarked in awe. "How did you come up with the blueprint?"

"I got it from you," Asta replied mildly, explaining that she had utilized the extensive amount of information stored in Jason's own memory to create the physical being she would become.

"Why couldn't I've been born stupid?" Jason sighed, shaking his head. He looked over to his grinning son. "Juris, she looks like…"

"The Black Star, I know," the Prince replied somewhat guiltily. "That's how she was before. Cold and unemotional."

Shaking his head again, Jason asked, "How am I _ever _going to explain this to your mother?"

Prince Juris made no reply, knowing explanations to the Queen were the least of his troubles.

* * *

Commander Daniels was relieved when his sovereign returned from the power plant unharmed and in surprisingly good spirits. The officer informed him of the miraculous events that had taken place during his absence. Riots had abruptly ceased. Striking workers had simply up and returned to their jobs. Even the Solar Generators had mysteriously realigned themselves. The list went on and on. It was as if everything had suddenly gone back to the way it had been more than a year earlier.

Of course, the occupants of the TARDIS knew exactly what had happened to cause this resur­gence of normality, but only the Lord Emperor of Alterrous (Jason's own sovereign) would ever learn the whole story.

The official story, while being accurate, was not entirely true. It stated that when Ormril's influence overshadowed the planet through the dimensional fissure, it created alien energies that had an adverse effect on persons found to be telepathic, some of which were effected to the point of total personality breakdown; Farrell being the most obvious case. The Chief Inquisitor be­came the key figure in the ensuing conspiracy and was named as the one responsible for the subjuga­tion of Crown Prince Juris by way of his abominable mind probe.

Asta told Jason later, and privately, the complete details surrounding Juris' involvement. Ormril had initially attempted to take control of the Prince, but found retaining it next to impos­sible, the boy's will being too strong for him to completely overcome. All he did was produce the headaches Juris had complained of shortly after his arrival. Eventually he used Farrell, who tricked the Prince into thinking he could rid him of the troubling migraines using the mind probe that he told the boy was a medical scanning device. Once there, Juris was drugged and placed on the machine, allowing Asta to extract his restraining life force without damaging his body, giving her Master complete control over him and a perma­nent unencumbered bridge.

The testimonies of the officer who administered the drug as well as the mind probe operator absolved the Crown Prince of all charges, including treason. In light of the evidence pouring forth, it was obvious he was not the only one to have been used against his will.

Asta's sudden presence was slightly more difficult to explain, so Jason chose not to even try, simply introducing her as his ward (one of several) and leaving it at that. While this unexpected development puzzled Asta—now Lady Asta—it delighted Prince Juris, as it allowed him to stay close without arousing suspicion.

The Prince was not the only one keeping a close eye on the newly formed noblewoman. The Doctor had been watching her too, and after only a few hours of existence it seemed to him that she was no longer the all-powerful being she had been in the energy field. After more than a day this seemed even more likely and he asked if this were the case. Asta confessed to the fact that she did not know, having been too busy trying to adjust to the confines of a solid physical form. She then told him that she suspected Ormril may have attempted to cross when her transforma­tion occurred, possibly destroying himself and cutting off all access to her former powers. The Doctor asked how she would feel if this turned out not to be the case and confided that she hoped her powers would never manifest themselves. She felt she owed it to Juris not to terrorize people anymore, something her powers always seemed to do. Her matter of fact response astounded the Doctor. Whether Asta realized it or not, she was an Alter­ran in every sense of the word and the Time Lord marveled at how thoroughly Juris had been able to instill the nobler qualities of his race into the one time creature of destruction. It also greatly eased the Doctor's mind, as he now had no doubts that he had been right to free her.

* * *

A few days after normality returned to the planet, the Doctor noticed at least one of Asta's abili­ties manifesting itself. During an informal gathering she became annoyed by the stray thoughts of the guests, verifying the Time Lord's suspicions that she was still a very powerful telepath. Upon further investigation, he found Juris was developing similar characteristics, possibly due to his having been utilized as the path­way during his lengthy captivity.

The moment he recognized the signs, the Doctor knew the Royal pair needed to be sent for formal training and guidance immediately. He passed these observations on to the King, sug­gesting Gallifrey as the best place for this specialized training.

Jason knew the Doctor was right, but still resisted. He had nearly lost his son and could not bring himself to send him away so soon.

"Jason, don't let your emotions get in the way of your better judgment," the Doctor said firmly. "Just watch them and you'll see what I'm talking about. Juris answers her when she hasn't spoken. It's just like you and Shadra."

The King's eyes widened. This had obviously escaped his notice.

"You've had expert training, if I do say so myself," the Time Lord pointed out. "And I know for a fact that you had difficulty adjusting at first. How do you think Juris will handle it with no training at all?"

After a long pause, Jason looked meaningfully at the Doctor. "I hate it when you're right all the time," he remarked, bringing a smile to his friend's face. Heaving a resigned sigh, he con­ceded, "Alright, you win—again. I'll give the orders so everything can be arranged."


	23. Pulling Rank

**Chapter Twenty-Three**

**Pulling Rank**

King Jason entered the seldom used throne room, throwing a disgusted look in the direction of the ornate monstrosity provided as his throne. He took a seat on the steps leading to it and looked over to the TARDIS standing at the base of the steps a few metres away.

"Doctor, are you sure there'll be no problems once they reach Gallifrey?" he called out concern­edly. "Even if we're not supposed to be considered aliens, you know how the Time Lords can be."

"You needn't worry about a thing, my Royal friend," the Doctor chirped brightly as he emerged from the TARDIS. "I've already notified the High Council. Someone will be there to meet them the moment they arrive." Taking a seat beside the King, he added devilishly, "I also reminded them—quite accidentally, of course—that you're the Lord Emperor's favorite nephew. I don't think there'll be any problems."

Jason's eyes lit up and he grinned from ear to ear. "Some things never change, do they?"

"True. But you're certainly not one of them," the Time Lord remarked. "You've changed quite a bit since I saw you last. You used to be uncomfortable with your position, Royal author­ity and all that, re­mem­ber?"

His friend smiled knowingly, having already encountered the Time Lord's future self while he was still Crown Prince. _You have no idea_.

"That certainly isn't the case now," the Doctor was saying. "I saw that when you stopped Juris in his tracks."

"I'm not sure that had anything to do with Royal authority, Doctor. I was acting as an angry parent, not a King. It's not easy keeping one's children in line. Especially the likes of my five."

The Doctor blinked. "Five!" he gasped. "Isn't that a bit excessive for an Alterran?"

Jason laughed. "You should come see me more often than once every hundred years of so. You wouldn't miss so much."

The Doctor cleared his throat. "Like your coronation, for example?"

Jason laughed again. "You could still attend anonymously. Watch from the crowds and then leave." With a sigh, he confessed to having wished he could have done the same thing. He hated all the pageantry, wanting to simply get it over with so he could return to traveling with his unique band of investigators.

"Which reminds me," the Doctor interrupted. "Just when did this extraordinary road show of yours get started?"

Jason blushed slightly, causing his friend to think that some things never did change after all. "I wasn't kidding about this being your fault, Doctor," the Alterran said in a slightly accusing tone. "That last little escapade of yours got the Lord Emperor's attention in a big way. You had to go and tell him about—" Breaking off, Jason chuckled, "I don't know why I'm scolding you. I love my work. I started out looking into this and that 'as a favor,' and the next thing I knew…"

"Krystovan and Company was born," the Doctor grinned. A sudden thought struck him and he gasped, "Good Lord, Jason, I've just realized. You were still Crown Prince then. Just how long have you been doing this?"

"You thought I was joking when I said it got easier after the first half century, didn't you?"

"Well…" the Doctor hedged. "Nobody misses you?"

"Not so's you'd notice. I'm only a figurehead, anyway. The Senate and Central Council have most of the real power."

"I was thinking a little closer to home, actually," the Time Lord said acidly.

"I'm not gone _that_ much," Jason countered. "In fact, this investigation's been the longest one to date. I'm not usually gone more than a few weeks, if that. I only stopped once, and that was when my father—" Unable to say the word "died" he lowered his eyes and sighed, the memory of King Aaron passing like a ghost across his face.

"I am sorry, Jason," the Doctor said gently.

"He used to drive me crazy arguing with you all the time," Jason went on. Looking down at his hands, he sighed again. "I can't believe how much I still miss him," he added wistfully, wip­ing a stray tear from his cheek.

The Doctor put a consoling hand on his friend's shoulder and then rose to his feet, a clear sig­nal that he was getting uncomfortable. Strong personal feelings always seemed to have that ef­fect on him and Jason wondered how they had ever managed to become such good friends, he being so emotional by nature.

"I think I'd best look for Peri," the Time Lord announced as he started for the door.

"No, there's something I have to—" Jason cut himself off and held up a hand. "No, not like this."

Rising to his feet, the Alterran climbed the steps and surprised the Doctor when he suddenly transmuted, his clothing changing to elaborate finery, a jeweled crown appearing on his head. He then sat upon the ornate throne. In doing this, he was no longer plain, old Jason Krystovan; he was His Most Royal Majesty King Jason of Tel-Shye.

Looking every inch the regal figure he was the King looked at the puzzled Time Lord. "Be­fore you leave, Doctor, I would speak with you privately," he said in a formal tone.

"Certainly," the Doctor said with a slight bow. "How may I serve your Royal Majesty?"

"I desire that you do something for me."

The Doctor blinked. Considering all they had ever been through together, he knew the Alter­ran realized he would do anything he asked, but was prevented from voicing these thoughts by an upraised hand.

"We both know," the King said calmly, "I could go into the TARDIS right now and find out exactly when my reign will end."

"Ja—your Majesty, you know I can't possibly allow—"

"I don't want to know when I'm going to die," King Jason cut in sharply. "I still believe some things are best left to the silence of the future."

"Then you've lost me," the Doctor confessed.

The Alterran smiled. "All I want is a promise that you'll return to see me at least once more before I do die," he said simply. "I don't know if it's because we're supposed to be connected or just my natural paranoia, but I can't shake the feeling I'll never see you again once you leave here."

The stunned look on the Time Lord's face caused the monarch to laugh. "Well, Doctor? How's that for authority? For once, it seems, I'm pulling rank on you!"

"Your Majesty, I'll have you know I'm still Lord President of Gallifrey," the Doctor snorted in feigned indignation.

"And _I'm_ still the favorite nephew of the Lord Emperor of Alterrous," King Jason shot back smoothly.

"Touché. Alright, you win."

"I have your solemn promise?"

"Yes, you have my solemn promise," the Doctor repeated.

With a satisfied look on his face, Jason rose to his feet, returning to his previous and less os­tentatious appearance, thus signaling the formality of the interview had ended.

"Before you let this little victory go to your head, your Royal Megalomaniac," the Doctor said baitingly, "just remember one thing. I could pop up at any time. Next week, next year, or even next century."

"Or all of the above," the King injected with a grin.

"Precisely. So just don't expect me to appear at your death bed."

"I should hope not!" Jason gasped.

"And who knows?" the Doctor said cheerily. "I may just pay a visit to the next appearance of Krystovan and Company."

* * *

This story is followed by Part Two - **A Hole In Time, **which takes place one year later, and brings together the 5th and 7th Doctors...sort of.

* * *

The Transmutation Of Time - Part One© 2003 -- The Will Of Ormil © 1993 -- is an original work written for the enjoyment of Doctor Who fans everywhere. No copyright infringement is intended. 

Original series broadcast on the BBC. Format © BBC 1963

Doctor Who and Tardis are trademarks of the BBC.

The story and all other original characters are © Margaret Price


End file.
